


Golem

by ElisiansBane



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amorality, Drama, Gen, Horror, Human Experimentation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisiansBane/pseuds/ElisiansBane
Summary: After all they had suffered together, their sacrifices and their pain, Al had to live without his brother. It was the last exchange made with Truth. Edward’s life and body for his own. The younger brother’s feelings forcefully buried until his absent father appears one day and offers him hope, but is it still Edward?Genre: Horror, Drama, Alternate Universe, “What-If scenario,”  Isolated Short Story that takes cues from FMAB and FMA, but is not canon.Side characters will be mentioned, but this story focuses primarily on Alphonse, Hohenheim, and Edward and the dynamics/relationships between them.





	1. Chapter 1

 

* * * * * * * * * * GOLEM  * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1: Second Chance

* * * * * * * * * * GOLEM  * * * * * * * * * * * *

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be standing between his mother’s grave and that of Brother’s.

He didn’t hear the last words of friends and colleagues giving their final testament to his brother’s life. They all spoke of his bravery, tenacity, intelligence, and unyielding commitment to those he loved. But it all went over Alphonse’s head. All he could hear was his brother’s last breath and all he could see was the closed mahogany coffin being lowered into the ground. He couldn't cry. His face was a blank slate. He barely heard the quiet sobs next to him from Winry and Pinako. He couldn't summon any emotion. He felt numb, broken. Brother left him. Brother broke his promise.

After everything they sacrificed, this is what it all came to. They were each other's only family, their only anything to be honest. Not once did Alphonse ever imagine that he would lose his brother three years after they finally accomplished their dreams and could finally live their lives in relative peace. But once again, fate would have the last word.

Everything was great. Alphonse slowly recovered from years of the malnutrition his body went through. He finally reached a healthy weight and could walk on his own without getting tired or needing help. He couldn't wait to start working out again and building his muscles. He wanted to spar again with Edward. The dark memories and pain were all in the past. He would never have to watch his brother suffer for his own sake. For the first time in years, Alphonse actually saw his brother  smile - really smile. It wasn’t a cocky grin, or rebellious smirk. It was a real joyful smile that brightened his brother’s face and revealed just how handsome Edward was and how much he had grown. Even better, only Alphonse could make him smile like that.

But things started to change. As Alphonse grew in strength, Edward weakened. It started as occasional muscle cramps and stiffness. They thought it was because of his newly restored limbs. No big deal. Exercise and mild pain relievers would make it go away. Edward shrugged it off with a smirk, saying that it must be the stress and reaching the ripe old age of twenty. They laughed it off and went to the pharmacy for medicine. Alphonse and Winry took turns massaging Edward's overworked limbs to help ease the pain and numbness.

Over time, the pain and numbness were replaced by muscle weakness and chronic soreness. It was difficult for Edward to move his right arm and left leg. Again, no big deal. He was still adjusting. But then a few months later, his left arm and right leg started to act up. Edward had to concentrate to move any limbs and had trouble walking. Edward’s limbs felt like they had cinder blocks tied to them. His speech became slurred. His cognitive functions slowed. Memory loss. Difficulty concentrating. Mood swings. A few months later, he had difficulty recognizing faces. He had to think before he could remember someone’s name or their face. One time, Alphonse scared Edward because he thought Alphonse was a stranger in the house - even though he just saw his little brother seconds ago.

Mustang finally stepped in. He took Alphonse, Edward, and Winry to the best hospitals in Central. He brought the best doctors and specialists from around the country to help the Hero of the People. They examined him and took samples. They said the same things in one way or another. 

He’s tired. He’s put his body through so much stress. It’s his chronic injuries. Stress. Depression. Insomnia. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. The doctors went down the list of each and every conceivable reason Edward’s health was declining. They threw every medicine and therapy they could think of. Alphonse and Winry became Edward’s caretakers. They worked in shifts as Edward needed constant care after he lost the ability to walk on his own.

Finally, they found a doctor who told them what the hell was going on.  _ Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis _ . A neurological disorder that selectively affected the cells that control voluntary muscles of the body. It was often seen in people who sustained several concussions and head injuries. Thus, Edward was a prime candidate. Movements such as speech, walking, eating,  _ breathing _ , would become increasingly difficult as the muscles atrophied. But the mind remained mostly clear and aware.  Most victims only had months once they were diagnosed. The only thing they could do was keep Edward comfortable and safe until the inevitable happened.

Alphonse could only watch as his brother became imprisoned inside his own body. Though he couldn't get his body to work, Edward’s eyes remained alert. He was fully aware of what was going on around him and the reality of his fate. Alphonse heard Edward crying in a rare time his brother was left alone in his own room. But when Alphonse was with him, Edward never cried. He remained strong. He had a sense of humor. He would smirk and give a weak chuckle when Alphonse fumbled with the medicine or tried to carry him up the stairs. Even with weakened muscles, Edward still had his wide grin and that special smile he only gave to Alphonse.

“Why, Brother? Just - why?” Alphonse sobbed.

“A life for a life…” were the last words Edward ever spoke.

Edward withered right before Alphonse’s eyes. He couldn't talk anymore. His muscles atrophied. Edward’s only means of communicating were through gestures and sounds that reminded Alphonse of a baby babbling. Edward kept deteriorating until he was little more than a lifeless body laid on a narrow hospital bed.

Alphonse was holding Edward’s hand when he watched his brother draw his last breath. It was just the two of them. Winry and Mustang had gone home. He remembered Winry giving him a hug and lovingly stroking Edward’s hair in a final goodbye. Alphonse heard her sobs steadily growing louder as she moved down the hall. Mustang remained calm when he left, but Alphonse could see the grief in his dark eyes. 

“I love you, Brother…” Alphonse whispered brokenly between tears. He swore he felt a weak squeeze of his hand. He looked up to see Edward staring at him, glassy eyed and pale.

_ ‘I love you too...’ _

Edward gave a deep breath and exhaled. But he didn't take another one. Alphonse’s mind went blank.

_‘No...no-no-no-no-no-no-NO!’_ the rising panic gripped him.

“Brother?” his voice cracked. _"Brother!"_ Edward didn’t respond. Edward’s face went slack, the color drained from his face, his hand felt even colder in Alphonse’s hand. The heart monitor stopped its rhythmic beeping and gave a small alarm.

The doctor came in. Alphonse watched blindly as he checked Edward’s vitals and looked to the clock on the far wall and then scribbled something on Edward’s chart.

“Time of death...2:04am, October 23rd, 1919...”

Those were the words that repeated in Alphonse’s head over and over again while he watched Edward’s coffin sink into the freshly dug grave. He glanced up at the people around him. He saw everyone who touched his and Edward’s life all grieving for the terrible loss. 

Everyone except his father.

* * * * * * * * * * GOLEM  * * * * * * * * * * * *   


As the months turned into years, Alphonse regained some semblance of a normal life. He had to in honor of his brother’s final sacrifice. He wouldn’t insult his Edward’s memory by drowning in his own grief.

Alphonse followed his goal of becoming a medical alchemist. He lived in Xing for the next five years to study alkahestry and get his medical license. He enlisted in the military - to Winry and Pinako's horror - to gain access to the research that could help him find a cure for the disease that took away the last of his family. Anything to save someone from experiencing the breaking pain he had as he was forced to watch his brother die. He wouldn't wish that pain on his worst enemy.

When he returned to Risembool, he asked Winry to marry him. She said yes, and for the first time in years, Alphonse felt happy.

It was the obvious choice. Winry was the person who stayed by his side through his brother’s disease. She had always been there. She never wanted anything from them. Winry never manipulated or used Alphonse and Edward for her own gain. She was the only person the brothers trusted without hesitation. With her, they always had a home to return to.

With Winry, Alphonse felt peace and love. Her beauty and kind nature drew him in and he wanted to have her in his life for as long as possible. They comforted each other and bonded during their mourning. He could fall part in front of her. He didn't have to worry about controlling his emotions and ‘being a man.’ When she slept next to him in their bed, Alphonse didn’t miss laying next to his brother as much.

“How was work?” Winry asked after she gave him a sweet kiss.

“The usual,” Alphonse sighed as he removed his shoes and dropped his bag by the door. “Can't wait for flu season to be over.”

Alphonse worked as a medic in the military base. He took care of soldiers returning from deployment and their families. He was among the biggest advocates for providing free healthcare to military families, not just the soldiers. Fuhrer Mustang signed this into law only a year after Alphonse enlisted. It was big news and the Amestrians hailed the Elric brothers as ‘Heroes of the People.’ It was a title that Alphonse was determined to earn.

“Is it bad this year?” Winry set down a cup of tea for her fiance and returned to preparing dinner. It was chicken pot pie. One of Alphonse’s favorites.

“Not as bad as last year,” Alphonse replied before taking a sip. “People are following advice to prevent spread of the disease. Hopefully, this new vaccine everyone’s talking about will be ready by next year.”

“Interesting,” Winry muttered as she checked the food. “I never thought an epidemic could be prevented with just a tiny shot.”

Alphonse nodded. “It has the potential to save thousands of lives. Hopefully, us medical people won't be out of a job.”

Winry chuckled. “I seriously doubt it. Here...” she placed a plate of pot pie in front of him. “You look hungry.”

“Thanks!” Alphonse started to dig in, but paused when Winry’s expression became tense. “What’s wrong?”

Winry sighed and went to the living room. She returned with an envelope and placed it on the table. “This came today...it’s from your father…”

Alphonse set the plate aside and took the envelope. Hohenheim hadn’t spoken to Alphonse in years. He disappeared after the Promised Day and it was as if ne never existed - as always. 

Alphonse frowned irritably as he opened the letter. “What does he want?” While he never hated Hohenheim as deeply as his brother, he remained disinterested.

_ “Alphonse, _

_ I know I haven’t been in contact as I should. I want to make it up to you. I’m coming to Central tomorrow and will stop by to explain. But you and Edward have suffered too much and I can’t stand by anymore. - Hohenheim.” _

“What the hell is he talking about?” Alphonse threw the letter on the table and returned to eating dinner. “I honestly can’t understand why he needs to be so vague. He’s so up his own ass.”

“What does he want?” Winry looked just as annoyed. “What’s he up to now?”

“Who knows,” Alphonse brushed it off. “Probably wants someone to feel sorry for him.”

Alphonse remembered a time when he yearned for his father’s love. Without their mother, Hohenheim was the only parent they had. Alphonse teased fantasies of their father returning and they could be a family again. It was why he pleaded with Edward that he try to reconcile with Hohenheim. But Edward refused, saying that Hohenheim didn't deserve forgiveness. Alphonse didn't want to think that. Even if Edward was right. Alphonse found himself feeling the same after Edward's death.

Winry held a similar animosity towards Hohenheim. “I don’t want him around…” She said with finality. “Nothing good happens when he’s around.”

“He won’t be here for long,” Alphonse said. “I’ll hear him out and then move on. He just wants attention.”

Winry placed her hands on his shoulder. “Just be careful,” she whispered gently. “I don't want you to get hurt.”

Alphonse took her hand and kissed it. “I won’t. It’s over with him. He’ll be gone soon enough.”

With that, Alphonse and Winry finished dinner and spoke of other things as they cleaned the dishes and prepared for bed. Hohenheim was the farthest from Alphonse's mind when Winry removed her nightgown and laid him on their bed

The next day, Alphonse came home. Today was especially hard because it marked the anniversary of Edward’s passing. He and Winry planned to visit Pinako for the weekend and visit Edward’s grave to pay their respects. He looked forward to it with a sense of that lingering grief. However, he needed to be near Brother again.

“Hey Winry!” he called out. But instead of his fiance’s voice, he heard another.

“Hello, Alphonse…”

Alphonse froze. Hohenheim was standing in the kitchen. Winry stood behind him, clearly perturbed. 

“How have you been?” Hohenheim greeted with that same indiscernible smile that Edward hated. “It’s been a while.”

“It has...” Alphonse said flatly. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to visit and see if you’re doing well.” Alphonse heard Winry snort behind Hohenheim. He glanced down to see her swinging an iron pan in her hand as if ready for Alphonse to give the signal.

“Well, we're fine,” Winry spoke up before Alphonse could respond. “Everything is perfectly fine.” It was clear she wanted Hohenheim gone.

Hohenheim didn't seem to hear her. “I heard you and Winry were engaged. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Alphonse said. Winry rolled her eyes and went back to whatever she was doing.

“Why are you here?” Alphonse finally asked after an awkward pause. “It’s been three years. What do you want this time?”

Alphonse came to understand just why Edward resented their father. Hohenheim didn’t seem to understand how his actions spoke louder than his words. He claimed to love his sons and that his leaving was for their own good. But two children wouldn’t know that. Hohenheim returned during their darkest time and seemed to pass judgement rather than offer support. If either showed pain or anger at his abandonment, he met them with a vague excuse and a condescending remark about how they were too young and foolish to understand just what he did for them. Even if it was for the greater good, it never replaced the pain and hurt they felt when he left them to watch their mother die. Alphonse didn’t truly understand until he had to watch Brother die without a single acknowledgement from their supposed father.

“I don’t want anything,” Hohenheim broke Alphonse from his thoughts. “I came to make an offer.”

Alphonse looked at him suspiciously. “What kind of offer?”

Hohenheim sighed and turned into the kitchen. He sat down and gestured for Alphonse to do the same. Alphonse glanced at Winry, still moving about the kitchen, she gave him a skeptical look but remained quiet, eyes never leaving the back of Hohenheim’s head.

Hohenheim seemed to struggle with his words before finally explaining himself. “I understand that you must feel a great amount of anger towards me.” Hohenheim was interrupted by Winry’s loud scoff. He glanced at her and then continued. “I...don’t want your forgiveness because I know it can never be given. 

“‘Yeah, right,” Winry mumbled as she dried the dishes. Alphonse gave her a glance and she quieted with a huff.

Hohenheim continued. “You and Edward were always meant to be together. You were the epitome of soulmates. The bond you shared was indescribable - unconditional. Such a thing should never be lost.”

There was something about the way he spoke that made Alphonse shift uncomfortably. He looked to see if Winry heard. She had and was looking at Hohenheim with distrust and slight distaste.

“And?” Alphonse said dryly, remaining neutral.

Hohenheim thought for a long time, and then finally answered. “I’ve been researching. Scouring through every book and archive to find a way to bring Edward back without the danger of human transmutation.”

Alphonse and Winry froze. Alphonse stared blankly at his estranged father. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He sat like a deer in the headlights as he waited for Hohenheim to further explain himself. Surely, he misunderstood.

“I’ve developed a theory on why human transmutation always fails. It's not about equivalent exchange - it’s about consent on the part of the deceased. I don't know what to call it. However, it has the potential to circumvent the law of equivalent exchange. Edward was never supposed to die. I want to rectify that, but I need -”

“Get the hell out of my house!” Alphonse screeched. He stood up from his seat and pointed to the door. “Get your useless ass out of my damn house!”

Hohenheim stood stoically from his chair. “Alphonse...I just-”   


“Shut the hell up!” Alphonse yelled. “I should’ve kicked you out the moment I walked in! You just want to use us for your own sick experiments! As usual!”

“I’m not using you...I want to help you-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Alphonse growled. “This is another of your sick messiah-complex schemes. If you want to commit the ultimate taboo, go ahead! But you’re not dragging me and my fiance into this!”

“I’m sorry, Alphonse-”

“Stop! Just stop!” Alphonse banged his fist on the table. “It’s always ‘I’m sorry’ with you. But until I actually see that you’re sorry, you can step right out that door!”

Hohenheim didn't fight. He slowly walked around the table, past Alphonse, and to the front door.

Before he disappeared into the night, he made one last pitch. “If you could bring your brother back without any consequences or sacrifice, would you do it? Think of the answer and return to me. I’ll be in the city until Sunday. If you don’t come, I’ll leave and you will never have to worry about me ever again.”   


* * * * * * * * * * GOLEM  * * * * * * * * * * * *   


Soulmates...Alphonse could see that.

A soulmate was a person with whom one has a feeling of deep, natural affinity. It could be similarity, love, comfort, intimacy, spirituality, compatibility, and trust.

The Elric brothers were all of these things. Alphonse and Edward had a bond that went beyond sibling love. They had a spiritual connection that couldn’t be severed. They understood each other in ways no one else could. They accepted each other when no one else did. There was nothing the other could do that would make his brother leave. There was an unconditional trust between them that couldn;t be achieved with anyone else. ,They were all the other had. They were each other’s foundation. When Edward died, Alphonse’s foundation was torn and he was left with nowhere else to go.

In the months after Edward’s death, Alphonse obsessed over the past memories of his brother. Every little trinket or journal from their childhood was held with reverence. Alphonse still had Edward’s huge collection of alchemy books. What few photos he had of his brother and their friends were kept in a fine photo album. He even had Edward’s state alchemist pocket watch. It made Alphonse feel like Edward was still there.

Sometimes, he would sit and think about what his brother looked like before he deteriorated. His thoughts of his brother were tainted with the dying waif on the hospital bed. So Alphonse prodded until he could remember Edward exactly as he should have been.

Long gold hair. Fine, toned muscles. The rebellious spark in hazel eyes highlighted with a toothy smile. That husky tenor of a voice. 

_ ‘I want to touch you again, Brother…’ _

Edward was Alphonse’s life for so long, the younger brother didn't know what to do. He was sure others found their bond to be codependent and even a little freakish. Edward was all Alphonse knew. Amidst the trauma, pain, betrayals, violence, and endless suffering, Edward was the only positive thing in Alphonse's life.

_ “If you could bring your brother back without any consequences or sacrifice, would you do it?” _

That was a low blow. So like his father. Finding Alphonse’s one weakness and using it to further his own agenda. Empty promises. Hohenheim just wanted to manipulate him into some endeavor that he needed Alphonse for whatever reason. Alphonse wouldn't make that mistake again. He would never play God with his brother’s life like that. It went against everything they believed in. And yet…

His brother's face came into view. He missed Edward so badly. What did Hohenheim want?

Alphonse contemplated this as he sipped at his coffee. Winry sat across from him reading the daily newspaper. 

“What do you think?” he mumbled to Winry over breakfast.

“Think of what?”

“What Hohenheim said last night?” Alphonse mumbled into the mug.

Winry made a small growl. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re actually contemplating what he said? He’s a con artist, Al! Why do you keep giving him chances?”

“No, I’m not!” He protested, though that wasn’t entirely true. “It’s-It’s just that question he asked. Why would he say something like that?”

“Because he wants something from you,” Winry frowned. “He has an ulterior motive.” She cupped his face. “Please, Al...don’t fall for it.” 

“What is he trying to do?” Alphonse asked in frustration. “What could he possibly be thinking?”

“Don't give a damn about it!” Winry protested. “We've moved on!”

Alphonse’s eyes widened. “What if he plans on killing someone? I can't let him do that.” He stood. “I need to go after him. If what he asked is true, then I have to stop him!”

“This is what I meant!” Winry shouted. “This is how he gets in your head. I bet you he’s not going to do a damn thing. He just wants to use you!”

She grabbed his shoulder to make him look her in the eyes. “We’ve finally made a life for ourselves. The Promised Day, the homunculi, and everything else is in our past. We have a good home, good jobs, and we’re about to get married. Don’t ruin things because your father guilt trips you into what he wants.” She leaned back over to touch her forehead to his. “Edward wouldn't want that.”   


“No, he wouldn’t…” Alphonse whispered. Winry smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “Just leave him. It’s not worth it.”

Winry was right. It wasn't worth it. Though he missed his brother more than anything, he wouldn't make that mistake again. Human Transmutation was a taboo for a reason. It was a sin punishable by a fate worse than death. He and Edward were incredibly lucky to have come out with their lives at all. 

To commit that sin again would negate everything he and his brother gave up so much for. It would dishonor his brother’s memory. He wouldn’t let his own grief cloud his judgment.

* * * * * * * * * * GOLEM  * * * * * * * * * * * *

And yet, here he was, standing at the door of Hohenheim’s room at a local inn.

Alphonse couldn’t erase the thought of his brother from his mind since last night. His dreams became memories of nights spent watching his brother sleep. Edward was always so tense and moody during the day. But when asleep, he looked peaceful and young. Alphonse, stuck in his armor, would just watch him until daybreak. 

He remembered those nights spent with his brother reading up on everything written about the philosopher’s stone and theories on its origin and composition. Edward would stare unblinking at the complex mathematics and recreate them into transmutation circles without a twitch. He and Alphonse spent hours at little cafes and restaurants where they would discuss the theories and techniques they read about and how they could be adapted into making a philosopher’s stone.

He thought of Winry and what she said. But then Edward’s face would interrupt any reason her words gave.

Those memories bade him to go find his father. Seeing Edward’s restored body in Alphonse's mind was a powerful temptation. At least, he had to hear what Hohenheim had to say. He told himself that depending on what Hohenheim said, Alphonse would either walk away or stop him from whatever horrid thing he planned to do. Alphonse wouldn't allow that. Even if he wanted to see his brother again, he wouldn't see him at the cost of someone else’s life.

But there was small, traitorous voice that told him he wasn't as noble as he wanted to think.

Alphonse sighed. It was now or never. He knocked on the door and waited.

If Hohenheim was surprised at seeing his son at the door, he didn’t show it. “Alphonse…”

“Hohenheim…” Alphonse returned.

“You used to call me Dad,” Hohenheim sounded wistful.

“That was when I thought you were our dad,” Alphonse answered flatly. 

Hohenheim just sighed and stepped back to let Alphonse enter. Alphonse stood in the center of the tiny hotel room and waited for Hohenheim to speak first.

“Did you consider my question?” Hohenheim asked after a long pause.

“I did,” Alphonse answered. “And I have an answer…”

“Yes?” Hohenheim pressed.

Alphonse looked down at his feet, thinking of what he wanted to say and then meeting his father’s eyes when the words came to him. “I miss Edward more than anything. He was the only family I had. If I could bring him back, yes I would. But I’m not a naive child. Whatever plan you have in your head, I want nothing to do with it. So my answer is no.”

“Then why are you here?” Hohenheim asked, emotionless.

Alphonse eyes narrowed, he moved until he was mere inches from his father. Hohenheim didn't flinch. 

“I’m here,” Alphonse started, emphasizing each word. “Because I want to know what you’re planning on doing and if I need to stop you. I won't let you hurt others because you think you’re showing me kindness. I won’t have it.”

“If you say no, then I won't do a thing.” 

Alphonse was surprised. But it just heightened his wariness. “You won’t? Then why bother to show up?”

“It was my last attempt at a semblance of redemption,” Hohenheim explained, looking downtrodden for the first time. “I failed at being a father. I’m more of a scientist than a parent. If it’s our fate to never see each other again, I at least want to part with a final gift to you and to Edward.”

Alphonse had no idea what to say to that. “Just what exactly are you talking about? And say it to me straight this time!”

Hohenheim eased onto the edge of the bed. Alphonse remained standing, ready to storm out if needed. After staring into the distance, Hohenheim finally spoke.

“There is a reason that human transmutation fails,” he began. “But if it was truly impossible, people wouldn't try it. The reason it fails is because it regards the human soul as an object instead of a sentient being. A person’s body dies, but their soul moves into a different existence. The soul is what makes someone who they are. The body is just a vessel.”

Hohenheim paused to check if he had Alphonse’s attention. Alphonse just stood there blank-faced and trying to understand where this was going. Satisfied, Hohenheim continued. “The first mistake is trying to bind the soul to an incomplete body. The body must be complete and an exact replica of the former vessel. The soul must be convinced to return of its own will. However, if the soul is at peace, then it won't want to return and it can't be forced. That’s why it’s so dangerous. You can't force someone to return to their former life with its pain and challenges. One must offer something to the soul that it can't find in the afterlife.”

Alphonse heard what Hohenheim was saying. But his mind couldn't wrap around it. What Hohenheim explained sounded like something out of the occult - not science.

Hohenheim was speaking again. “It’s a possible loophole to human transmutation. Equivalent exchange does not apply if the thing being exchanged consents. Souls aren’t objects. Souls aren't bound by chemistry, elements and the like. It is something exists beyond alchemy and our limited understanding of the world. Edward’s soul is still Edward-”

“I’ve heard enough!” Alphonse interrupted. “This is absolutely ridiculous! You’ve gone completely insane! I already learned my lesson the hard way. I’m not going to help you bring Edward back through some twisted idea of equivalent exchange.”

Alphonse spun on his heel to go home. “I should’ve known better. This was a waste of time. You’re just playing god - again! I don’t need this!”

Alphonse reached the door when his wrist was caught in a tight grip. “Let go of me!”

Hohenheim didn't budge. He looked into his son’s eyes with unusual earnest that made Alphonse nervous. “If Edward saw you. If you were the one to retrieve him from the Gate, I’m sure he would consent.You two were meant for each other. I saw it. Such pure, unconditional love. Let me return that to you. So you can live the rest of your lives together - as it should be.”

Alphonse was thoroughly creeped out. Hohenheim's tone, the way he looked at Alphonse with that arrogant, all-knowing expression left him feeling exposed. He didn't know what his father saw, but he didn't want him to see it anymore. 

“You’re disgusting!” Alphonse hissed and yanked his wrist away.

“It won't cost you anything...” Hohenheim called after him. “Edward would want to be with you. I’ll take all the blame. You’ll lose nothing.”

“Of course, I would!” Alphonse shouted back over his shoulder and was about to slam the door.

“I will do it with or without you.”

Alphonse stopped and with a growl, yanked the door back open. “You just said you wouldn't if I said no!”

“You think I’m playing God,” Hohenheim whispered. “Perhaps I am. I’m a merciful God for my sons. I failed my wife and I failed my children. Let me have this one chance to make everything right and earn your forgiveness.”

Alphonse went slack. The emotional and mental stress was getting to him. He knew his father was manipulating him. It was Hohenheim’s greatest skill. He knew how to exploit his sons’ love for each other. 

A memory came to Alphonse. He and Edward were playing in the yard as children. Edward was teaching him how to climb the tree. He looked up to see his brother’s bright smile and hands reaching for him.

_ “What if I fall?’” he heard himself say. _

_ “You won’t,” Edward said with utmost confidence. “I’ll catch you.” _

_ Alphonse frowned, but Brother was always right. He could trust Brother. Alphonse hesitantly grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted himself up to grab the one above it. He looked up to see Edward smiling with pride and reaching for him. _

_ “Come on, Al!” Edward said. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” _

_ Alphonse almost made it. But he lost his footing. With a yelp, he felt himself fall backwards and cringed in anticipation for the hard impact. But it didn't come. Edward grabbed his hands in time and pulled him back up with a grunt. Relief flooded him, Alphonse grabbed onto Edward for dear life. Edward made an ‘oof’ noise at the force, but quickly returned the embrace. _

_ When Edward leaned back to look at him, Alphonse froze when Edward’s younger self was replaced with his adult form, still smiling at him. _

_ “See?” Edward smiled. “I’m here…” _

But now he wasn't. Edward was gone and there was no one to catch him. It left him empty and numb. If he could only see Edward again, just one more time.

Alphonse looked at his father. Hohenheim stared at him with a confidence that made him wonder if he saw the memory too. Alphonse felt himself weaken. If he could see Edward again without consequence and with someone to take the fall if it failed, could he do it?

He hated himself. He had to know.

“Fine,” Alphonse grumbled, not willing to admit defeat. “I’ll humor you, because it’s obvious you won’t leave until I come with you. But if you go too far, I’m out. If you give even the tiniest inkling that you’re going to hurt anyone, I will stop you and make sure you never do anything like this ever again.”

Hohenheim gave a mirthless smile. “I promise, you won’t regret this. Thank you.”

“We’ll see.” Without another word, Alphonse marched out of the room, thinking of a way to tell Winry and not get the scolding of his life.

* * * * * * * * * * GOLEM  * * * * * * * * * * * *

Golem chapter one!

While watching FMA and FMAB, I couldn't help but think about the idea of human transmutation and what it exactly is. It’s made very clear that humans can't bring back the dead and can’t ‘play god.’ But then this thought came to me:

In christian teachings, we’re created in God’s image. In each human exists the spirit of God and each human is an independent existence that has the power of choice. No one can force us to do anything without our consent (how you interpret this is based on your own experiences). To force someone is to deny them their right to their own choice and the greatest sin is to take away another’s right to choose. Because, in a roundabout way, to force someone is to force the spirit of God. This is where human transmutation messes up.

FMA/FMAB takes a lot of Christian concepts and imagery, so this idea came to me based on the themes presented by FMA/FMAB.

Thanks for reading chapter 1! Please leave a review and comment! They keep me motivated.

EB

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Thanks to everyone who read this fic and left comments. I always appreciate your time and attention. I hope you continue to enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Warnings: Violence

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Golem Chapter 2 - Wraith

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“That’s my evening meds….It’s 9am.”

“Wait-what?” Alphonse stared at the five or six different bottles arranged on the dresser. Alphonse found it easier to arrange Edward's medications for the week with all the bottles laid out and slowly work his way down the list. A card with the different medications laid beside him. 

Edward pointed to one of the bottles. “I’m supposed to take that after dinner.” He pointed to another bottle. “That’s the one I take after breakfast.”

Alphonse rolled his eyes. “God…”

Edward chuckled. “I thought you wanted to be an alkahestrist. You can't even get your own brother’s meds right.”

“I still have the excuse of being a novice,” Alphonse huffed, but it was all in fun. “Luckily, I have you for practice.”

Edward snorted. “You and Winry like to make me your test subject.” But he took the medications handed to him without fuss.

If Alphonse focused, he could ignore the slight slur in Edward’s voice. Talking took more effort than before. Edward didn’t speak as much because of this. It sometimes took him a few tries before he could get a clear sentence out. But in the mornings, he could speak a little better. Maybe it was because he had a good night’s rest and wasn’t worn out like at the end of the day. 

Edward choked a little as he swallowed. He set down the cup with a cough. Alphonse immediately reached for him. “Stop,” He breathed. “I’m ok.”

But he wasn’t ok. Alphonse was terrified when watching his brother’s health deteriorate right before him. He noticed how walking for any distance made Edward pant, and he was always tired. He was pale, always pale. He was thinner, and getting thinner each day.

It was like they were slowly trading their health. As Alphonse grew stronger, Edward weakened. As Alphonse regained his strength and stamina, Edward’s faded. Alphonse couldn't help but wonder if this was the price his brother made for his life...he didn't want to think that.

And yet, it gave answers that the doctors couldn’t. This mysterious illness with a ninety percent mortality rate and ineffective treatments. It explained why they couldn't find a way to stop the illness from destroying the last of his family. After all they had ssacrificed to regain what they had lost and finally be at peace, this was their fate. They were cursed. Always cursed since the day they committed the ultimate sin. So taboo that not even their children’s innocence could save them.

It was their punishment. They would never have true happiness. Not with each other.

A life for a life. The true equivalent exchange.

“Whatcha thinkin‘bout, Al?”

“Nothing much,” Alphonse hadn't realized he drifted off. He took the empty cup from Edward and set it on the dresser.

Edward frowned. “Well.. if you need someone to talk to, you know I’m always here.”

That was ironic. Alphonse should have been the one saying such things. Edward didn’t think of his own suffering and fate. It was always about Alphonse. Never himself.

“I know, Brother,” Alphonse gave Edward a gentle smile.

Edward didn’t push it, though he looked at his younger brother with unhidden skepticism. Instead, he chose to fall back onto his bed with a groan. “My head hurts...everything feels heavy.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to rest,” Alphonse got up and made his way to the kitchen.

Alphonse didn't want to admit that the moments away from Edward gave him respite. He didn't have to be strong. He could let the growing lump in his chest have its way. He used those moments to pretend that Edward was perfectly healthy when he couldn't see him. It was a lovely way to be in denial. As long as Edward was safe in his room, Alphonse could pretend everything was fine.

Alphonse sighed at the dishes laid on the counter. Edward had only finished half his breakfast. Edward had lost interest in eating. He said he wasn't hungry, but everyone knew better. However, Edward refused to switch to a liquid diet. That was for old people, he said.

Alphonse scraped the leftovers into the trash and started to wash the dishes. The pouring water was a welcome ambient noise that kept him grounded.

His back was to the doorway. He heard someone shuffle behind him and a startled gasp. Confused, Alphonse turned around and saw Edward standing in the door and staring at him with animosity.

“Ed?”

“Who the hell are you?!” Edward slurred. “How did you get in here?”

Alphonse had no idea what was going on. He set down the plate he was scrubbing and slowly turned to face Edward, who watched him with wide, dilated eyes. “Edward. Brother. It’s me, Alphonse…”

This happened before. At random moments, Edward would space out and forget where he was or what he was doing. The spells lasted seconds, but it took Edward a while to fully return to consciousness. This time though, Edward had never looked at anyone with such veracity or confusion.

“Where’s my brother!?” Edward demanded. Alphonse noticed the thin sheet of sweat on his forehead and the way his limbs shook. He looked like he was barely able to stand. Every muscle was tight. Alphonse had to be careful. Edward was unpredictable in this state.

Alphonse slowly approached his brother, hands in the air. “Edward...I’m your brother...I just saw you…”

Edward didn't move. He backed away when Alphonse tried to get closer. He genuinely looked at Alphonse like he was a threat. Alphonse stilled when Edward got into his usual fight stance. He glanced to the side, there was a knife on the counter beside Edward. He would need to be very careful. Alphonse tried to move to the side, hoping that Edward’s delirium would keep his brother from noticing the potential weapon.

“Brother,” Alphonse kept calm, despite the rising nervousness. Though weaker, Edward was still an excitable fighter and hadn't forgotten his training. “Brother, I’m not gonna hurt you. Just calm down.”

Alphonse should’ve remembered that Edward was inhumanly fast. He made the mistake of getting a little too close in his effort to block Edward from the knife. Edward panicked and lunged for Alphonse, knocking them both to the ground.

“Brother! Edward!” Alphonse grunted, trying to pin Edward down. “It’s me!”

“Where is Alphonse!?” Edward shrieked, twisting around to grab at Alphonse’s neck. Alphonse managed to get out of the way, but it meant letting go of Edward. Edward didn’t hesitate to slam Alphonse to the floor.

Alphonse looked up. There was no color in Edward’s face. His eyes were wild and glazed. His pupils were dilated to the point that his eyes were completely black. He could feel the shaking in Edward’s arms and the twitching in his eyebrow. He would have to incapacitate Edward.

Alphonse took advantage of Edward’s weakened body. He grabbed Edward’s braid and yanked it back to grab Edward’s neck. He swung his leg behind Edward and rolled them over. He caught Edward’s arm and twisted it until Edward flipped onto his stomach. Edward yelped in pain. Alphonse felt terrible, but he didn't have much choice. He put his full body weight on top of Edward.

Edward squirmed underneath him. And then, he went completely limp. He just stared emptily at the side with his cheek pressed into the floor. His breathing came out in short gasps.

“Brother?” Alphonse panted. He loosened his grip but stayed in place. “Brother. You’re safe. Calm down. It’s Alphonse.”

He knew when Edward came back to reality. It started as confused glances, then fear. Edward stiffly twisted to look at Alphonse, disoriented and not sure why his brother was on top of him.

“A-Al?” Edward sounded like he had cotton balls in his mouth. “What-why am I on the floor?”

“You came in and tried to attack me,” Alphonse let go of Edward and helped his brother sit up. Edward stared in disbelief. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Edward blinked, looking around and still bewildered. Alphonse watched the anxiety in Edward’s eyes. “You...went to the kitchen?”

“Yes,” Alphonse said. “And then what?”

“You were pinning me on the floor,” Edward’s voice cracked. The anxiety was replaced by embarrassment and then despair. “I’m sorry, Al. I didn’t mean to. I-I don’t know what happened. I was lying down and then I’m here.” Edward ran his fingers through disheveled hair and tried to hold back the tears.

Alphonse was there in an instant. Edward allowed Alphonse to pull him into a hug.

“I hate this!” Edward’s voice was muffled in Alphonse’s shoulder. “I hate this so much! I’m going fucking crazy!”

“Shhh, I know, Brother,” Alphonse’s voice was tight, also trying to keep back the tears.

He stayed strong for the rest of the day. He was glued to Edward’s side, trying to distract him with funny stories and mindless chit-chat. It seemed to work as Edward slowly cheered up. Mustang came by for a visit. He and Edward fell back into their old banter and friendly insults. Edward even managed to finished his dinner.

It came crashing down when Edward suddenly froze and then fell over into a grand mal seizure. Mustang managed to catch him and lower him to the floor as the violent muscle contractions took over. It lasted only a minute, but it felt like forever for Alphonse. When the contractions stopped. Edward went limp. Mustang helped Alphonse pick Edward up and they immediately took him to the hospital.

As the doctors and nurses tended to Edward, Alphonse still didn't cry. If he cried, he couldn’t be strong for Brother.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alphonse grudgingly followed his father down the street to an abandoned warehouse Hohenheim appropriated to conduct his experiment.

The explanation with Winry went as well as he expected. He had to dodge a couple of pans thrown his way between the screams.

“I can't believe you!” She shrieked, gripping at the air now that her hands were empty. “Don’t you understand he’s just using you! This is what Edward was talking about! Your father is a selfish asshole!”

“You’re right. You’re completely right!” Alphonse shouted back. “I don’t trust him! I’m only going because I know he’s gonna do something to someone else. I have to know what he’s doing and stop him!”

“This is how he’s using you!” Winry hissed through gritted teeth. “He knows you wouldn’t want someone to get hurt! That’s how he’s making you come along without whatever harebrained scheme he’s got!”

“I know that!” Alphonse groaned. “I can take him down if I need to!”

Winry stared at him with renewed disgust. “This isn't about stopping him. You really think he can bring back Ed?”

Alphonse was silent. That was all the confirmation she needed. “You idiot! You unbelievable idiot! Why would you think that? Edward is gone. He. Is. Gone. No one can bring him back. Don't even think you and your crazy-ass father can bring him back! You’ll just get yourself killed or lose your body -  _ again! _ ”

That brought him out of his stupor. “Don't you bring that up ever again!”

“Why shouldn’t I?” She wasn’t backing down. “That’s the reality of what’ll happen if you go with that asshole! You cannot bring your brother back. His body is buried in a grave in Risembool, a two-day train ride from Central. That is the world's one and only truth,  _ Alchemist _ !”

Alphonse couldn't believe she would throw their philosophy back at him like that. “Fine! You’re right! I want to see my brother again. Hohenheim is a manipulative jerk who wants to use my grief for his own agenda!” Alphonse let out a sob, but managed to regain his composure. “I don’t think he can bring Edward back, but that won't stop him from trying. Winry, I saw the look in his face. He thinks he can redeem himself through some twisted experiment. I want to see Brother again, but I also can't let my father hurt someone! What if he does bring back some random ghost from the Gate and entraps that person in a disgusting excuse for a body. I have to be there to stop him!”

Winry rolled her eyes with a loud groan. She threw her hands up in defeat. “You know what? Fine. Fall for your father’s lies one more time!” She pointed a finger in Al’s face. “But if something happens, just know that you’re just as at fault as he is!”

Her words followed him until he and Hohenheim reached their destination. It used to be a large factory that made weapons for the military. It went out of commision after the Ishvalan war and left to rot. Hohenheim chose it because it was in the poorer part of Central City.

“I set everything up in the basement,” Hohenheim said as he led them down into the bowels of the building. Alphonse peered into the dark, trying not to think of those ghost stories he heard during his journey with Edward. This place was the perfect for a haunting. After everything he had been through, it seemed silly for him to not believe in ghosts.

Hohenheim opened a heavy door. Alphonse squinted from the sudden light from several bulbs. Hohenheim managed to bring electricity to the room. Around the room were several shelves lined with alchemy books and bottles of strange liquids. In the center of the room was a huge alchemy circle identical to the one they used to bring back their mother.

Hohenheim began collecting bottles and boxes from the shelves. “The first step is creating a body.”

Alphonse watched him. “How will you do that?”

“The same way you and Edward did,” Hohenheim replied casually. “However, the first mistake the two of you made was getting the ingredients wrong.”

“Wrong? We made sure we had everything right to the last milligram!”

“You were very incorrect,” Hohenheim said. He placed the different containers on a table next to the circle in a specific order. “You missed several things.” Hohenheim walked to a closet that Alphonse just noticed and pulled out a large wash basin. He placed the basin in the center of the circle and returned to the table. “This part will be the easiest. Because a body is an organic object, it can be formed without fear of breaking a taboo. It’s an inanimate object like anything else.”

One by one, Hohenheim opened each container and poured the contents into the wash basin. “Oxygen, 43kg. Carbon, 16kg. Hydrogen, 7kg. Nitrogen, 1.8kg. Calcium, 1kg. Phosphorus, 0.78kg. Potassium, 0.14kg. Sulfur, 0.14kg. Sodium, 0.1kg. Chlorine, 0.095kg. Magnesium, 0.19kg. These are the elemental components of an average human being. This will be our starting point.”

Hohenheim gestured for Alphonse to come closer. “There is one final element. The DNA structure of the individual. Because I don’t have your mother, I can't use parental blood to customize the body. So you’ll have to do, even though you share only fifty percent of Edward’s DNA.”

Hohenheim produced a small knife from his pocket and handed it to Alphonse. “I’ll need your blood - not a lot. Just a tablespoon or two and a saliva sample to be thorough.”

Hohenheim gathered the appropriate containers to get the samples. “Move quickly.”

“This is ridiculous…” Alphonse murmured when he held the tray of sample containers Hohenheim handed him.

“And yet, you’re here,” Hohenheim said dryly. “A part of you thinks this may be possible. You have nothing to lose so why not?”

“I have everything to lose,” Alphonse said rigidly.

“As I said, I’m the one performing the transmutation and will be the only one doing any alchemy. I just need you to cooperate,” Hohenheim gestured to the tray. “Hurry up. The ingredients decay quickly.”

When Alphonse hesitated, Hohenheim tried to encourage him. “It’s only natural for you to want your brother. He was the only family you had. The only person you loved you without restraint. This is a chance to regain what you’ve lost.”

What he lost. Alphonse lost his brother at the cost of his own body. He could regain his brother, but the cost would be steeper than simple elements. But, if his father was the one making the exchange with Fate, then this could be possible. If Alphonse could get away unschathed even if the transmutation failed, then maybe…

Alphonse sighed heavily and quickly nipped his finger and spit into a tiny glass thimble. Hohenheim took the samples and added them to the mix.

“Stand back,” Hohenheim instructed. Alphonse backed until he was against the wall farthest from the circle. He looked nervously at the containers still lining the shelves and wondered what else Hohenheim kept in this decrepit place. He watched Hohenheim clap his hands together and tried not to think about how much he looked like Edward. People used to say that all the time and they got a veracious rant similar to when they mentioned Edward’s height.

Blue light blinded him. The electrical currents swarmed the room and made the hair stand on his body. He felt the immense energy course through him and he held himself steady. He could only hear the miniature lightning bolts snap around his father’s silhouette. There was an odd smell like burning flesh that made him slightly gag.

What would it look like? It would be an amazing feat if within a matter of seconds, Alphonse would see the body of his brother in perfect condition right before him. It seemed too good to be true.

It wasn’t. The light and energy died. Alphonse could look without squinting. The wash basin was thrown to the side and in its place laid something that could only be described as the ugliest mockery of a human body Alphonse had ever seen.

It was completely featureless. It laid in a twisted heap in front of Hohenheim. It looked like grey leather stretched over a skeleton. It was completely hairless. It reeked. It’s mouth was wide open enough for Alphonse to see it didn’t have teeth. Its limbs were emaciated and bent at unnatural angles. When Hohenheim moved to straighten it out, it flopped like a ragdoll.

“It’s hideous,” Alphonse whispered in disgust.

Hohenheim looked up at him casually. “It’s a human body in its barest form. All the elemental ingredients -”

“That is not a human body!” Alphonse interrupted angrily. “That is some disgusting - disgusting thing you put together! This was a waste of time!”

“Its unrefined,” Hohenheim explained. “Like I said, it’s in its fetal stage. Things like hair, eye color, and organs will come later in phases. We have to be very careful.”

“It doesn't have organs!?” Alphonse was astonished. “It’s just a pile of junk made to look like an ugly doll!”

“Your lack of faith is disheartening,” Hohenheim said sarcastically. “I thought you and Edward were scientists. Have you been among the common folk so long that this logic is beyond you?”

Alphonse sneered. “The great thing about being around ‘common folk’ is that they teach you humility. Something you should learn.”

“An alchemist can't let such things get in the way of discovery,” Hohenheim wasn’t moved. “Otherwise, you remain ignorant.”

“I’d rather be ignorant than arrogant!” Alphonse argued. “There is still such a thing as ethics, Hohenheim!”

Hohenheim sighed as if Alphonse was being absolutely ridiculous. “Fine. Go to the hotel to gather your thoughts. I’m going to process this thing further and I don’t need your discontent.”

Alphonse wanted to continue arguing and hopefully get the chance to burn that thing and end this all together. But he decided to follow his father’s orders and return to the hotel to plan on how he would stop this madness.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

“This is wrong...so very wrong,” Alphonse mumbled to himself. The food from room service was cold and Alphonse just poked at it. He couldn't bring himself to eat when the food arrived and that thing appeared in his mind.

The first step was completed. Hohenheim created a bare bones version of a body. The twisted creature with its broken jaw kept appearing in his head. It hadn’t moved once when touched. It was completely lifeless. There was no way Hohenheim could make it into a fitting vessel for Edward’s soul.

‘If I were Brother, I wouldn’t come back to that thing.’

Hohenheim promised he would make it perfect.  Alphonse couldn’t see it. The best that could be done was make it into a grotesque lifeless being. Or a homunculus, though he doubted even that could be accomplished.

This shouldn’t be done. The selfish hope that his brother could be restored wasn't worth this abomination. He didn't care if Hohenheim would take the punishment. This couldn't happen and he had to destroy that thing.

He couldn’t damn Edward to a life trapped in such a deformed vessel. He knew that pain all too well.

Those years spent inside a lifeless form, stared at and treated like some novel freak. He couldn't count how many times people shot at him just to see what would happen.  He could remember the snide remarks and mockery for being trapped inside an exaggerated tin can.

Some people envied him. He was essentially immortal. He didn't need to eat, breathe or sleep. They wanted what he had, but he wouldn't wish his fate on anyone and he was quick to call people out on their foolishness. He would gladly die of old age or illness if it meant he could enjoy food, rest, and taking deep breaths. He would give up the chance to live forever if it meant he didn't have to watch those he loved grow old and move on while he remained an empty shell.

His mind drifted back to those nights of rare quiet. It was the times when Edward would so carefully polish his body and repair any cracks or rust. He wished he could feel Edward’s calloused fingers running down the metal plates so meticulously. He would watch Edward cut into his own hand to repaint the seal that bound his soul to the armor. Edward did it with the skill of an artist. He didn't leave a single spot untouched. His focus was intense and Alphonse remained silent, not wanting to break his brother’s concentration. Alphonse felt a rush when Edward finally leaned back and looked up at him with a proud grin.

Alphonse got up to slowly pace the room. He had to move to dissipate the growing anxiety. His mind traveled further back to when they were children. Alphonse and Edward shared a bedroom. If either had trouble sleeping, they shared a bed. If either had to use the bathroom during the night, the other would always accompany them as the house was too dark and there could be monsters. They would return to their room and cuddle together. They had always been physically affectionate. Alphonse always felt safe with Brother.

He sure needed Edward now. Edward would know what to do and had the spark to stand up to Hohenheim. He wouldn't have to be here alone.

Alphonse shook his head. He wasn't a little kid anymore. He didn't need to go back to his big brother for protection. He was a grown man and had to see to his own wellbeing. His neediness for Edward was detrimental.

Alphonse fiddled with his pocket and found his wallet. He took it out and unfolded it. A picture was revealed. It was the last one taken before Edward got sick. It was during the time that Edward came to visit him during his studies in Xing. He remembered how much fun it was to show his brother around. Edward soaked it all up, asking endless questions and wandering off when he saw something new. The photo was taken of the two of them in front of an elaborate fountain in the Xingese palace. Edward had his arm thrown around Alphonse’s shoulders, looking so proud and happy for his brother. Alphonse was leaning into the touch, it looked like the photo was taken just after Edward must have said something that made Alphonse hold back a giggle because his eyes were perfect crescents and his cheeks were completely round.

_ “It’s only natural for you to want your brother.” _

The way Hohenheim spoke of his relationship to Edward was unsettling. It picked at something Alphonse didn't want to think about.

Alphonse put the photo away. It was making him slowly start to believe Hohenheim. He missed Edward’s smile and boisterous personality. The possibility of seeing him again was making him open to Hohenheim’s crazed ideas.

He needed to sleep. With a good rest, he could think clearly and find a way to rid himself of his father and that wraith.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

The loud knock jerked Alphonse out of his dissatisfying sleep.

His sleep was haunted by interchanging images of Edward and that wraith. One point, he awoke with gasp when the wraith spoke in Edward’s voice and begged Alphonse to kill it.

The person knocked again. Alphonse mumbled a curse and dragged himself out of the bed. Not caring to tidy himself, he stomped to the door and yanked it open.

Hohenheim stood in the hallway with dark circles under his eyes and looking completely exhausted. It gave Alphonse pause. “What is it?”

Hohenheim smiled tiredly. “I’ve made progress with the body. Its officially living.”

Alphonse eyes widened. “What’s ‘officially living’?”

Hohenheim pushed past Alphonse into the room and closed the door. “I was able to refine it. It has working organs and a complete nervous system. It can breathe on its own and has a semblance of awareness.”

“It’s sentient?” Alphonse said with shock.

Hohenheim nodded. “To a degree. It’s technically alive as the organs are functioning. But I doubt it’s currently aware. It’s still just an organic object. It’s organs are only doing what they evolved to do.”

He actually did it. The wraith was now an officially living creature. It intrigued and frightened Alphonse. His father’s efforts brought the wraith closer to being a human. Alphonse did and didn't want to believe it. It left him conflicted and scared. Hohenheim completed the first step in restoring Edward to their world. The idea was hard to swallow.

“I need your input now,” Hohenheim continued.

This caught Alphonse's attention. “My input?”

“The last time I saw Edward, he was seventeen,” Hohenheim explained, dully noticing the still uneaten food. “I don’t know what physical changes he underwent as he matured. You have a better memory. For an exact replica, we need your most accurate memories of what he looked like.”

“I have a picture,” Alphonse started to reach for his wallet again.

Hohenheim stopped him. “A photo won’t show enough details. I need you to examine every last feature for complete accuracy. It will be more difficult to convince the soul to return if the body isn’t as exact as possible.”

Hohenheim stood. “The photo will give us a start. But I still need your insight for proper customization.” He turned to face Alphonse. “Have you eaten? I want to do this as soon as possible.”

Alphonse silently changed his clothes, grabbed a tea biscuit from the abandoned room service, and followed his father. The trip to the warehouse seemed shorter as his mind flipped through so many disorganized thoughts. Alphonse didn't realize they reached their destination until Hohenheim called after him.

He led Alphonse to the same basement. He opened the heavy door and Alphonse saw the wraith again. It was bound by the wrists and ankles. Its breathing was loud and scratchy. It  twitched on the ground, situated in the same circle from yesterday. Saliva drooled down its chin from its heaving mouth. It had eyes this time, but they were closed. It had two holes where its nose should have been and two other holes for ears. It looked ‘better,’ but it was still hideous.

Alphonse shakily took a step closer. He noticed the arrays drawn on the creature’s face and chest. He recognized the symbols as modification mathematics used to adjust the mass of an object.

“Give me the picture,” Hohenheim reached towards Alphonse. He robotically fished out the photo and handed it to him. Hohenheim stared at the photo for a couple of minutes and set it aside on a table.

“How tall was Edward when he died?”

“Five-nine and a half,” Alphonse said automatically. Edward made sure everyone knew the exact measurements.

Hohenheim hmm’ed and instructed Alphonse to stand back in his usual spot against the wall. Alphonse watched in complete silence as Hohenheim traced the lines on the creature’s chest. The wraith twitched away from the touch, but otherwise remained unconscious. Hohenheim spread his hands on the wraith’s pectorals and the familiar blue light shone.

The light hadn't fully enveloped the room when an ear-splitting shriek made Alphonse jump.

Hohenheim stayed focused. The wraith convulsed on the floor, its limbs twisting and bending to get away from Hohenheim’s touch. It’s screeches grew louder as the energy of the transmutation increased and forced its body to change. Alphonse reached to cover his ears. He turned into the wall. He tried to harden himself to the pain in front of him. He cringed further into himself when he swore the screams became human-like.

The light died down and Alphonse could see. He slowly walked up to stand beside his father when Hohenheim stood straight. Alphonse looked down, disturbed at the sight before him. The creature had indeed grown to the proper size. Before, it was not much bigger than a bulky child. Now it was stretched into the lean body of what appeared to be a young male.

“What do you think?” Hohenheim asked far too casually to make sense.

Alphonse stared at the thing. It curled into itself. “What do you mean?”

“How does it look?” Hohenheim faced him directly.

“It looks like a mannequin,” Alphonse replied, only barely hearing his father’s question.

“I see,” Hohenheim murmured. “Edward was lean, but not this skinny.” He knelt again and transmuted the creature.

Alphonse clenched his eyes shut when the screams returned. They were over quicker. Hohenheim stood. Alphonse dared to look again. The wraith was dry heaving, making a sound that could only be described as a shaky sob. It opened its eyes and turned to Alphonse. Alphonse felt a tinge of fear when pitch black eyes noticed him for the first time. The wraith quieted. It drilled into Alphonse with depthless eyes. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. The wraith held his gaze. He couldn't tell if it was accusing him or begging him. He didn't want to know. It only broke its gaze when Hohenheim moved to block its vision.

“Come here…” Hohenheim beckoned him.

As if in a trance, Alphonse slowly walked until he was beside his father and could see the wraith fully. It was still ugly, but less so than before. It was now a healthy weight. It was clearly male and had a physique that was incredibly similar to Edward’s.

“The features aren’t detailed enough…” Hohenheim muttered as he examined his work.

“The nose is too small and should be straighter - like yours,” Alphonse said blindly, just describing what he saw. “The eyes should be narrow - cat-like. Edward has a more chiseled jaw and higher cheekbones. Just slightly adjust and it will look like him.”

Hohenheim nodded and immediately followed Alphonse’s guidance.

Hohenheim put one hand over the wraith’s face. The blue light returned and so did the screams. This time, it sounded desperate and afraid. The wraith tried to twist away, but Hohenheim held it in place with his other hand gripping its throat.

The screams were too much. “Leave it alone!”

Hohenheim paused. “If we are to create a proper vessel, we must finish it.”

“You’re hurting it,” Alphonse hissed.

“I’m afraid that can't be avoided,” Hohenheim returned calmly. “To force a body to mature in minutes when it takes years puts the body through tremendous pain. But it’s over as soon as it begins.”

“It should be killed,” Alphonse stated with finality. “Such a thing can’t exist!”

“I’d appreciate it if you showed at least some gratitude,” Hohenheim looked perturbed for the first time. “It can't be avoided. Your misguided nobility won't change that fact you want your brother and this is the only way!”

“I don’t want my brother if this is what it takes!” Alphonse shouted.

“Yes, you do,” Hohenheim growled. “Look!”

All anger left Alphonse. Where there used to be a bland, featureless face was now a face that looked exactly like Edward.

“That is...impossible…”Alphonse breathed. It was a perfect visage of his brother. It lay there, its breathing slowly calming. Even with greyish skin and glazed black eyes, it looked like his brother.

“Just a few more tries,” Hohenheim’s dark whisper reached him. “And it will be as if he never left me…”

“You?” Alphonse’s voice quivered.

“We’ll both get a second chance.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Golem chapter 2!

I hope you are all enjoying the fic so far. It’s certainly been a step outside my usual fiction. 

Interestingly, when I was looking up the elemental components of the average adult human body, I found this tidbit on the FMA wikia:

“ Something interesting to think about is, while the above is indeed what Edward and Alphonse thought was the correct assortment of chemicals, they were actually very wrong. Assuming that the Humans in Fullmetal are similar or even equal to humans in real life then the actual list would have been as proceeds; Oxygen, 43kg - Carbon, 16kg - Hydrogen, 7kg - Nitrogen, 1.8kg - Calcium, 1kg - Phosphorus, 0.78kg - Potassium, 0.14kg - Sulfur, 0.14kg - Sodium, 0.10kg - Chlorine, 0.095kg - and Magnesium, 0.019kg. In other words it's very possible that instead of needing a human soul, they simply got the wrong ingredients.”

Quite thought-provoking. It makes me wonder where Ed and Al got their recipe from? I did more research and it appears that the above components are indeed that of an adult human.


	3. Taibhse

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Golem Chapter 3 - Taibhse

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It was the screaming that woke Alphonse up.

Edward always had a strong voice. A husky tenor that could resonate within a room and carry far when outside. His voice could make a person stop. Coupled with the intensity of his eyes, it would make a person freeze. It was demanding and powerful. It left no room for argument.

This time, Edward’s voice was reaching pitches that bordered on shrieks. His voice broke and quivered. Words were barely incoherent. There was only one person who could incite such blind rage.

“What are you not understanding? Just-just why won't you listen?”

Alphonse quietly descended the stairs. He waited to the side of the entryway into the kitchen. Underneath the anger, Alphonse heard desperation. Frustration.

Why was Dad calling them now? The last time they saw him was at the Promised Day. As usual, when they recovered, he disappeared like a phantom, like he never existed. It was that moment when Alphonse finally accepted that Dad didn't want to be a father. Never did.

“I just don’t believe you!” Edward screeched. Alphonse could hear the hyperventilating.

Edward went quiet while Hohenheim gave whatever answer. This only made Edward even angrier.

“You narcissistic, self-righteous, asshole!” Alphonse heard Edward slamming the table with every single word. “It doesn’t matter what you’re reasons are or that you’re sorry! You hurt us. You hurt me! We had to survive without you. You had every chance to do something but you never did because you’re too caught up in your selfish misery to think any different!”

Alphonse choked. Edward’s pain was seeping into him with every true word. He hated seeing Edward so broken. Edward rarely showed tears or hurt. He took every physical and emotional injury with dedicated stoicism to the detriment of his own sanity.

“How dare you tell me to understand!” Edward growled. “That’s all you ever say. You talk down to me like I’m a stupid child! You care about my feelings? Every time I try to tell you how I feel, you act like I’m the one being ridiculous. You don’t care! You just want to make yourself feel better. It’s always about you!”

“You left us,” Edward sobbed. “You left us to watch our own mother die and you still never came back. We took the risk of committing the ultimate sin because we knew you would never come back. Alphonse lost his body and I was torn apart, but you still never came back. I had to raise my little brother by myself and was more of a parent than a big brother. And. You. Never. Came. Back!” Alphonse could hear the table rocking with every slam of Edward’s fist. 

Alphonse heard a sob break loose. Edward gasped, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. Hohenheim said something. Edward spoke again, but it was with resigned anger. 

“I’m not being stubborn,” Edward said flatly, after a pause. “You want my understanding, but you don't want to understand me. You are and always will be a selfish, misguided, miserable man with a martyr complex.”

A final pause. Edward took a deep breath and spoke very slowly and deliberately. “Answer me this; was it worth it? Was all the research and self-hate worth your relationship with your sons?”

Alphonse had to ask the same thing. Hohenheim only entered their lives for short periods, and even then it was for another purpose. He spoke over and over again about how sorry he was that he couldn’t be there for them - and yet, he never tried to change and be there for him. But he felt entitled to their forgiveness.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Edward whispered hotly. “I won't forgive you until you show me you’re worth forgiving. Until then, stay out of my life!”

The phone was slammed down hard enough to break it. Alphonse waited. He wasn't sure if he should go in to comfort Edward, but he didn’t want to reveal he had eavesdropped on what was meant to be a private conversation. 

It started as heavy breathing, then it grew into whimpers. Finally, the sounds escalated into full  gut-wrenching sobs and wails. It hit Alphonse’s core and his own tears started to fall down his cheeks. He let them fall. He gripped at the wall behind him. He couldn't stand to hear Edward so broken. It upheaved his own stability. He couldn’t bear to hear Edward in so much pain.

“Brother?” If Edward showed that he heard the timid whisper, he didn’t react. The sobs slowly died down as his brother’s energy waned. They were now just shaky gasps punctuated by the occasional weak cry. 

“Brother?” Alphonse said a little louder. He carefully walked closer to Edward, who still hadn't moved. Edward’s hands were covering his face. Alphonse couldn’t see his expression from the the tangled bangs. He slowly put his hand on shaky shoulders. He jumped when Edward shoved his hand away.

“Go away!” Edward looked near-hysterical. His face was red and tear-stained. “I don't want to hear it! Don’t tell me to give him a chance! I’ve given him too many chances! All he does is screw us over!”

Alphonse didn’t want to admit Edward was telling the truth. He yearned so badly for a father or just a parent that he was willing to ignore the hurt. But Hohenheim hurt them over and over again. He only returned when it was convenient. He only had his brother and that was how it would be for the rest of their lives.

This time, Edward let Alphonse touch him. Edward collapsed into Alphonse’s arms, just quietly sobbing into his shirt. Alphonse hushed and whispered words of comfort. He stroked Edward’s hair, combing out the tangles with his fingers. They didn’t make the manliest image, but it was the only way to give his brother peace.

“I will choose you over him without hesitation,” Alphonse said, pulling away to look earnestly into bloodshot eyes. “You’re the only family I have.”

“Don’t leave me,” Edward whimpered desperately. “Please, don’t leave me!”

“Never,” Alphonse hugged him tighter. “Never.”

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“You’re not hungry?”

Alphonse looked up from his cold chicken. “Not really.”

“Do eat something,” Hohenheim gently pressed. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

The memory of that night ruined his appetite. He didn’t know why it showed itself now of all times. Intermixed with the vision of his brother, the wraith’s pained face flashed in Alphonse’s mind. That creature’s desperate gaze looked way too much like his brother that night. It left him chilled.

“Why are you really here?”

“What do you mean?” Hohenheim calmly sipped his coffee. “I already told you.”

“No, that’s not it,” Alphonse frowned. “This is more than just trying to bring Edward back. Just what do you want, Hohenheim?”   


For a brief moment, Hohenheim looked hurt. “You used to call me Dad…”   


“That was when I thought you were a father,” Alphonse said coldly. He set his fork down. His food was cold anyway. 

“I see,” Hohenheim looked away out the window where they sat. “I’d do anything for your forgiveness. That’s why I’m here.”

“And what if I don’t forgive you?” Alphonse asked.

“Then you’re just as stubborn as Edward.”

“No, I’m not!” Alphonse bit back. “Forgiveness doesn't mean anything if you haven’t acknowledged what you’re being forgiven for! And to expect forgiveness makes you even less deserving.”

“You talked to your brother…” Hohenheim stated disappointedly.

“I didn’t have to,” Alphonse looked down at his abandoned food. “I saw for myself.”

There was a long awkward pause. Neither made eye contact. Hohenheim shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Alphonse just watched and took a sip from his tea. It was cold too.

After what felt like forever, Hohenheim breathed deeply. “I would love your forgiveness, but I see it’s impossible.”

“Not impossible, just difficult when you want forgiveness, but do nothing to earn it.” Alphonse was unmoved.

“I’m seeing that now,” Hohenheim’s gaze was sharp, hiding an underlying emotion Alphonse could only name resentment.

“Why are you here?” Alphonse wouldn't let his father’s monologues distract him.

Hohenheim finally gave in. “I’ve given up on earning your forgiveness. However, I’ve seen the bond you and Edward shared and I don’t want to see that lost. I know what that feels like and I wouldn't wish that on you two.”

Alphonse looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Hohenheim took a moment to collect his thoughts. “When I was a novice in Xerxes, my master had a young slave named Sixteen. He looked a lot like Edward, but his personality was very different. He still had that fiery spirit, but it was controlled. He was more cunning than aggressive. But we formed a bond that I never experienced with any other human - not even your mother.”

That caught Alphonse off guard. “But you always said Mom was your true love?”   


“She was…” Hohenheim explained. “But Sixteen understood me in ways no one else could. He had a hold on me, much the way you had a hold on Edward. It was a bond that went beyond friendship or family. He understood my love of alchemy and desire for knowledge, he even learned from me.”

Hohenheim’s eyes were glassy, he looked through the window with unseeing eyes. “There was...something about him. Maybe you could call it soulmates. Maybe it was sexual. I just knew I wanted him in my life and at my side.”

Alphonse was weirded out. The way his father spoke left him unnerved. 

Hohenheim continued. “He was among the victims of Xerxes. I told him to flee the city. He went back to get his family, but they couldn't make it out in time. I found his body hours after the transmutation destroyed the city.” Alphonse heard the tiniest sound of grief in his father’s voice.

Alphonse stayed still, waiting for his father to continue. This was the most Hohenheim had ever told him of his past. Hohenheim was always tight-lipped about his life before he married their mother. He only told them the bare minimum and it was still under the most dire circumstances. And even then, he was still vague and aversive.

“He was so beautiful…” Hohenheim whispered forlornly. “He was bred to be a slave for the fighting rings, but I bought him. I couldn't see such a perfect being doomed to such needless violence.”

The question was on his mind, but Alphonse didn't want to know the answer. He saw the look in his father’s eyes and how he spoke. “If you had the chance, would you have named him like the Dwarf did for you?” He had to ask.

Hohenheim gave a chill smile. “I would’ve named him ‘Edward.’ The name followed me for the hundreds of years I lived. When your brother was born, I saw that same fire in his eyes, so I named him in honor of my soulmate.” He looked away with a dark yearning that left Alphonse disturbed.

That was it. Alphonse needed to end this.

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The sedated wraith was laid against the wall with his hands bound above him. He hung limp and watched Hohenheim draw the new array while Alphonse tried to avoid the wraith’s occasional glances. His expression was numb and glazed, but he still saw them.

Alphonse quietly watched Hohenheim draw the intricate algorithms and symbols that the younger man had never seen. The circle sat just inches from the wraith. Hohenheim had to be careful as when he drew near the wraith made a weak growl that was meant to be scarier than it actually was. Hohenheim was unmoved and continued his work while Alphonse shifted from foot to foot to distract himself.

The wraith was uglier in the light. The greenish-grey of its skin was even more noticeable and the inky black of its eyes were frightening when they caught Alphone’s gaze. It made him feel vulnerable. If he tried to move around the room, it’s eyes would just follow him when they weren't on Hohenheim. The chains holding it captive quietly rattled when it shifted to watch him.

“Alright,” Hohenheim mumbled. “We can start the refinement.” He undid the chains and dragged the wraith into the circle. Sedated, it didn't put up a fight but collapsed in a heap in the center of the circle.

The clap echoed in the room. Alphonse turned from the bright blue lights. He still jumped when the wraith shrieked. He squinted through the blinding light to see the wraith convulsing among the bolts of energy. It twisted away but appeared stuck. It was as if something were weighing it down and it couldn't move. Its screams grew and sounded even more familiar as the transmutation went on.

‘It’s just my imagination,’ Alphonse told himself. He looked everywhere but at his father and the wraith.

The screams finally died down. The wraith fell limp with ragged breaths. Hohenheim stood and moved for Alphonse to come see the progress.

If it weren't for the pure, milky white skin and silver hair, it would be identical to Edward. 

Alphonse looked in shock. It had his brother’s features. The only thing keeping it from being a carbon copy was its coloring. When it opened its eyes, they were a blood-red that pierced Alphonse's mind.

“Why does it look like that?” Alphonse asked in a shaky voice.

Hohenheim stood and looked at the wraith. “It’s an albino. The features must be finished before adding melanin.” Hohenheim turned to look at Alphonse. “How would you like him colored?”

Alphonse stared blankly at his father. “What?”

“How would you like him to look?” Hohenheim rephrased, gesturing to the moaning wraith. “We can make him a complete copy, but if there’s anything you want to change, it can be done.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Alphonse said, shocked. 

Hohenheim gave a devious smirk. “We hold our loved ones in high esteem - almost holy. I can make it as you saw your brother.”

“I don’t want that,” Alphonse clenched his teeth, he no longer trusted Hohenheim’s sanity. “Make him look like he’s supposed to! This is supposed to be my brother!”

“It’s not your brother,” Hohenheim said simply. “It’s a vessel. We can make it into whatever we want. We can even make it into how Edward wanted.” Hohenheim shrugged. “I just thought I’d ask.”

The wraith made a low whine, twisting onto its back. It’s eyes opened and settled on the two men. It immediately stiffened and hissed at them. It tried to move its arms to protect itself and then Alphonse saw the blood dripping from the iron cuffs, it almost glowed against the pure white skin.

He didn't know what possessed him, but Alphonse walked past his father and knelt beside the creature. The wraith tried to move away with another hiss. Alphonse was undeterred and tried to unhook the cuffs.

“What are you doing?” Hohenheim sounded annoyed behind Alphonse.

“It may be a vessel, but it’s still a living creature,” Alphonse said adamantly. “It’s injured and needs attention.” He freed the wraith’s wrists and shifted to take a look at the damage.

“Alphonse, be careful,” Hohenheim warned. “It’s unpredictable.”

Alphonse ignored him. The wraith was drugged and likely couldn’t fight back. He touched the wounds with his fingers and healed them with his own alchemical powers. The wraith winced as flesh repaired itself within seconds. It looked up at Alphonse with wide eyes, but seemed to relax when Alphonse smiled down at it.

Alphonse turned to Hohenheim. “Do you have something softer to use? I don’t want him to scar.”

“We only have the chains,” Hohenheim sighed irritably. “You should rebind him. I see rebellion in him.”

Alphonse glanced back at the wraith. It did have a sharp expression, but it was directed at Hohenheim. It tensed when the man drew near. “I’ll try...but only because he might attack  _ you _ .”

Alphonse turned to keep it calm. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Alphonse whispered soothingly. “Just stay-”

He didn't get to finish when the creature moved with amazing speed after being drugged and tackled Alphonse to the ground with a snarl. It launched for Hohenheim and managed to drag the man down to the floor. Hohenheim cursed and tried to beat the creature off. Undeterred, it tried to claw at his throat and sneered, revealing shark-like teeth that sunk into Hohenheim’s arm that was trying to protect the older man’s face.

Alphonse ran to pull it off. But the wraith was inhumanly strong and just knocked him back. Hohenheim managed to punch it with his free hand. The wraith stumbled back, but ran for the door and disappeared into the warehouse.

“Idiot!” Hohenheim growled. “Catch it before it gets outside!”

Alphonse ran after the wraith, knocking his father down. It had disappeared into the dark hallways of the warehouse. Alphonse took a step out and immediately felt the eerie silence. He ventured further into the halls, heart beating loud in his ears.

That thing’s eyes. They were for a single moment so gentle and harmless. It fooled Alphonse into thinking there was no harm in freeing it. They flashed before Alphonse was slammed against the floor. The wraith was much stronger than it looked. They were glowing red and filled with a murderous rage that made him run cold. He didn’t want to go after the wraith. He wanted to find his way out and never return.

“Don’t let it get out!” Hohenheim’s gruff voice behind him made the younger man jump. A flashlight was shoved in his hands and the dark form of his father pushed past him.

It shouldn’t get out. That thing was dangerous and the last thing Alphonse wanted was some innocent bystander getting hurt. By the time he gathered himself, Hohenheim had also disappeared.

Alphonse just stood blankly in the hallway, still near the relative safety of the room. He shifted uncomfortably before reluctantly following after his father. 

The silence was so heavy. Every sense was on alert. Alphonse carefully made his way into the inky blackness.He wished he had some sort of weapon. He didn't bother to ask Hohenheim just how they were going to restrain the wraith once they found it. He vaguely remembered Hohenheim rushing past him with a chain. He should’ve found his own - or at least something to defend himself.

Every creak echoed. The quiet sound of the air passing through the halls made his skin crawl. The halls smelled of mold and rusted metal. He wanted to make as little noise as possible, but every step made hollow noises and he didn't want that thing to attack him.  A sudden distant howl cut through the silence and Alphonse couldn’t stop the shaky yelp.

He crouched in the hall. He looked with wide eyes all around him, trying to see through the darkness. His mind raced through all his combat training and defense strategies. Domestic life had softened him. Instead of facing the danger, he would much rather just take off running. It was moments like these where he missed his brother’s brazen recklessness. 

‘Come on…’ he urged himself. 

It felt like hours. He listened for any sign of Hohenheim or the wraith. He made his way up the stairs to the second floor. Still nothing. There was a single open window that let in the fading light. The last thing Alphonse wanted was for the sun to set.

A loud crash like glass breaking. He swore when the sound of frantic footsteps stomping on the ceiling above him. They headed toward the east end of the above hallway. Alphonse waited until they faded and then made his way to the third floor to follow them.

‘This is like every cheesy horror novel,’ He thought dryly. He expected the killer to jump out at any moment with a butcher’s knife to slice his head off.

The third floor hallway looked just like the first and second floors. The dust was thicker and Alphonse couldn't help but cough. The sound resonated off the walls. He waited until the sounds died before moving forward. He came to the end of the hallway were it split into narrower halls. He contemplated for a moment and decided on going left. Something told him that this was the way the wraith had gone.

A shuffle followed by a growl. Alphonse froze. It came from one of the rooms to the right, further down the hall. As slowly and quietly as possible, he drew near to the sound. The shuffling was louder, this time he heard a low whine, like it was in pain. He slowly slunk around the doorframe to see the silhouette of the wraith curled in the corner of an empty room.

It heard him and froze. It uncurled itself to face him. Alphonse bit back the fear when its eyes caught the light of the torch. It looked so carnal. Its teeth flashed. A low growl. A warning. But he pressed his luck.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, moving as slowly as possible. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re safe.”

It didn't move. It watched him unblinking. He dared to move closer. It remained still. The only movement was the rise and fall of its chest with each raspy breath.

“Shhhhh…” He whispered, reaching out with his hand open towards the wraith as if petting the air. It finally broke its stare to watch his hand. He came within a couple of feet. It didn’t growl so he took it as a good sign and dared to kneel before it, hands still open non-threateningly. This time in the bare light, Alphonse could see the wraith holding its arm and the long trail of blood down its forearm. That explained the sound of glass breaking.

Alphonse reached for the wound. “Let me take a look. I can fix it.” He kept his voice in that lilting, soothing tone his mother used to comfort her sons when they were upset. This seemed to help and the wraith let him come closer. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. Everything is alright.”

The tips of his fingers brushed the wraith’s elbow. It jumped and he resisted the urge to jump too for fear of provoking it. It was visibly shaking from fear and adrenaline, waiting for Alphonse to be a threat. He continued to make soothing noises and slowly stroked the wraith’s arm. It didn’t pull away, but still watched with suspicion. Alphonse dared to make eye contact while he continued to pet it.

Its face was emotionless. Its ruby eyes glowed. It an odd way, it was eerily beautiful. Alphonse was again struck by how much it looked like Edward. It even had the messy bangs that were so Edward. A couple trims and it would be identical.

He reached out his other hand to cup its elbow. He didn’t push the wraith to move more than it let him. Finding comfort, it eventually let him unfold its arm to see the cut. It was a small piece of glass buried in the inner wrist. Alphonse could pull it out with his fingers, but it would be painful and he didn't want to break the already fragile trust.

“Can I touch it?” He asked softly. He wasn't sure the wraith could even understand human language. It seemed intelligent as it was able to fool them both to escape. He let his finger barely touch the tip of the glass. The wraith growled and yanked it back. Alphonse pulled his hands away and stood still. He wouldn't force the wraith. He would only do what he was allowed. 

“Shhhh…” he shushed to himself and the wraith. His own heart pumped frantically from the sudden rush of adrenaline. He had to remain calm. If he freaked out then he would be in danger. He didn't move until the wraith slowly relaxed. He breathed to calm himself as well. 

The wraith winced in pain. It glanced at the wound and then back at Alphonse. He decided to take the risk and tried to touch it again. This time, it let him unfold its arm completely. Alphonse gently stroked the inside of its arm, trying to convey through touch that he was trustworthy, he just wanted to help. It responded by relaxing fully, propping its weight against the wall. However, it watched him carefully for any sign of danger. Alphonse dared to give a gentle smile and continued to pet its arm. After a few minutes, he tried to touch the glass again.

Whispering gentle sounds of comfort, he carefully gripped the glass and quickly, but delicately, pulled it from the cut. The wraith yelped and snarled. Alphonse returned to holding his hands in the air and sitting still until the wraith calmed. When it did, it looked up at him and he smiled.

“See?” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

Alphonse felt bolder. He moved until he was only inches from the wraith. He could feel its cold breath on his face and neck. It stiffened when he reached out again, but this time he moved to touch its silvery white hair. It was soft and silky, though a little tangled. He gently unweaved the knots with his fingers. The wraith’s breathing slowed and it leaned into his touch, it’s eyes drooped. He took the still-bleeding arm and used a simple alkahestry technique to seal it shut. The wraith winced, but eased back into his touch.

They stayed like that for a long time, just getting used to each other. Alphonse hummed as he stroked the wraith’s long hair. He noticed that the wraith was completely cold. No heat emanated from it at all. It was only alive at the barest minimum. Alphonse thought he could feel the ghost of a pulse as he held its arm. 

Alphonse moved away slowly. The wraith looked at him curiously. Alphonse smiled and tried to guide it up to stand. It complied, much to his relief. It stood at its full height. It was just an inch shorter than him - just like Edward. 

Alphonse guided it to the doorway. “Wanna go back? It’s warmer and I can get you something to eat. You must be hungry.”

It crooked its head to the side. Alphonse almost thought it might have actually understood. But to his amazement, it made a slight lackadaisical shrug that was so much like Edward it was creepy. He brushed the thought away and led it back into the hallway. He listened to its bare feet dully stepping behind him. He avoided any obstacles to prevent its injury. They inched their way back down to the room. 

They finally made it back. Hohenheim was standing in the doorway outlined by the orange light. 

“Good, you got it to cooperate,” Hohenheim mumbled, moving to let them inside.

“Where were you?” Alphonse asked irritably. 

“I came after you, but I saw that the creature was compliant with you. Thus, I didn't want to disturb you.” Hohenheim watched the wraith. It noticed him and immediately went stiff with a growl.

“It’s okay,” Alphonse quickly tried to calm it. The wraith just stepped to the side to fully face Hohenheim, sharp white teeth bared with another, deeper growl. Alphonse immediately put his hand on its shoulder. The wraith remained inimical, but stayed put.

“You have the magic touch,” Hohenheim said flatly, a weird gleam in his eye.

“This is too much, Hohenheim,” Alphonse said, moving to stand completely between them. “This-this is wrong. This was a terrible idea. I shouldn't have come here. This thing isn’t supposed to exist!”   


“And yet it does…”

“Will you shut up?” Alphonse snapped. “I don’t need your smug comments!” Alphonse’s raised voice made the wraith hiss behind him. He quickly turned to hush it.

Hohenheim crossed his arms, which only irked Alphonse further. “If we stop it now, what will you do with it? Such a thing cannot exist in this world. It would be cruel to let it live.”

Alphonse sputtered. He looked between the wraith and his father. He couldn’t form words at what Hohenheim insinuated. 

The wraith looked at him and then at Hohenheim, not really comprehending the threat to its life but remained vigilant. When it looked at him, Alphonse couldn't help but feel pity. This creature had no voice in how it came to be. He could only guess what was going through its head or if it even had the ability to have complex thoughts. It relied entirely on instinct and everything was a threat until proven otherwise. Its existence was founded on selfish desires and it had no say.

He looked at his father. The story of Sixteen repeated in his mind. It made him back away protectively. He heard the wraith shift further behind him.

“Do you really want to bring my brother back?” Alphonse whispered. He could feel the wraith’s presence behind him. He could hear its raspy breathing.

Hohenheim approached him. The wraith growled behind Alphonse. “I want to see the two of you happy. Not once in my time have I seen the two of you truly happy with your lives. The loss I experienced with Sixteen left me broken. I saw that same thing in you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Alphonse stated.

Hohenheim was stony. He seemed to think of something before clapping his hands together and kneeling to the ground as the alchemical light sprung forward.

Alphonse didn’t see what he was doing until he heard the sound of cement groaning from the floor and the surprised shriek of the wraith. He spun around the see it struggling against the coils of stone. He immediately tried to free it with his bare hands, stupidly scratching his fingers but all he could see was the fear and betrayal in those red eyes.

Alphonse turned to his father with a snarl. “Let him go!”

“You wish to protect him…” Hohenheim observed. He flexed his fingers, the stone coiled tighter and the wraith screamed.

“He’s still a living creature!” Alphonse protested.

“Could you ever see him as Edward? Your brother?”

What the hell happened to Hohenheim? He knew the man to be cold, but not outright cruel. He turned to look at the wraith. It was hysteric. It twisted against the stone. He could see the small cuts and bruises forming. It looked at him with a mix of anger and desperation.

Alphonse rushed to calm the wraith. “Hold still, hold still,” he said gently. The wraith tried to twist away from him, but Alphonse carefully used his own alchemy to make the coils return to the floor. The wraith fell in a lump and tried to get up. It looked for an escape, but it hesitated when it saw Hohenheim move his hands to parody a prayer.

“Don’t you dare!” Alphonse gritted through his teeth. “You leave him alone!”

“Leave now,” Hohenheim ordered. “I must finish the revisions to his form and since you have his trust, I don’t want to jeopardize it.”

Alphonse barely heard him, he was kneeling next to the shaking wraith. “Shhhh, it’s okay. I got you.” He turned to Hohenheim. “I refuse to leave him alone with you!”

“Then step outside where it can’t see you. But it must be done.”

“I won’t!”

Hohenheim shrugged. He moved to stand next to the wall and with an unnerving speed, clapped his hands and more coils whipped form the ground. This time, they captured Alphonse and the frightened wraith.

“You bastard!” Alphonse struggled. “I said leave him alone!”

Hohenheim ignored him. The coils shifted and dragged the wraith to the center of this new transmutation circle. It screeched and convulsed. Alphonse had to avert his gaze when it looked to him as if begging for help. But he couldn’t.

Hohenheim went about his business, ignoring the wraith’s cries and Alphonse’s curses. He knelt down at the edge of the circle and the room was filled with blue lightning bolts. The high-pitched shriek went down Alphonse’s spine. He choked. He couldn’t help the feeling of protectiveness towards this inhuman thing. He didn't know why. He shouldn't care. But he did. 

The alchemical light died. Hohenheim stood and used his powers to free Alphonse. The young man immediately ran to where the wraith laid unconscious on the floor. But when he saw it, he froze.

It...it was a perfect clone of Edward. The same golden hair, tanned skin, sun-gold eyes. The chin, lips, ears -  _ everything! _ It was his brother laying in a trembling heap before him.

“Oh my...god,” Alphonse moved on shaking legs and collapsed to kneel beside the wraith - Ed.

He reached out to touch the hair. It was the perfect length and texture. Edward always had beautiful hair. The kind that women paid hundreds of dollars to have. He touched its face. Every barely visible freckle was in the right place.  _ It looked like Edward. _

“Can you see him now?” Hohenheim’s voice barely registered in his mind.

Yes. But he would be damned if he admitted it. Instead, he turned his attention to the wraith’s wellbeing. He stroked its arm when it whimpered. It slightly opened its eyes and they were the perfect gold. He pulled it into his lap to hold it, forgetting completely what this thing really was. He couldn't separate it anymore. He was holding his brother.

“I’ll leave you two…” was the last thing he heard before they were shut inside the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day, Alphonse brought food as a peace offering to the wraith.

He didn’t know how long they had sat in each other’s arms. He remembered just sitting there until the wraith calmed itself and drifted to sleep. Alphonse couldn’t bring himself to leave until his stomach growled and he realized just how starved he actually was. He gently laid the wraith down and wrapped it in his own jacket. He made sure it was comfortable before going out to find food. Hohenheim was completely gone and he was glad for that. He didn't have the patience to deal with his father.

He realized the wraith might be hungry too. But what could he possibly feed it? He supposed he could get it a sandwich. It was simple and easy enough to eat. He wondered if it would need a drink as well. Water made sense. On an impulse, he bought cookies as a treat. Perhaps it would regain the wraith’s trust.

He made it back to the warehouse with the food. There was still no sign of Hohenheim. It was likely he was back at the hotel as Alphonse didn't bother to return, but went straight to the nearest cafe. He carefully opened the door and peeked around the edge to make sure it was safe to enter.

He hated that he felt safer to bind the wraith before he left. This time, he found a tarp and transmuted it into a long strip and tied the wraith’s left ankle to one of the hooks on the wall. He made sure it wasn't too tight, but firm enough that if the wraith decided to attack, he could get out of the way very quickly.

“Hello?” he called out gently to warn the wraith of his presence.

A shuffle followed by a humph. The wraith sat cross-legged against the wall. Its hands rested in his lap, the fingers curled and uncurled like it was waiting for something. It watched Alphonse enter the room silently. Its eyes didn't leave him when he carefully knelt before it with the brown bag of sandwiches.

Alphonse had to clear his head for a second before he could speak. Again, he was shocked at how much the wraith looked like Edward. Even its calculating expression was just like his brother. He might as well be looking at his brother. It was unsettling. 

Alphonse shook the thought from his head and focused on the wraith that was  _ not his brother. _ “Hey...how are you feeling?”

The wraith just stared. Alphonse hoped that even if it didn't understand, at least the gentle tone would help. 

“I brought you something to eat…” Alphonse set the bag down and slowly pulled out the contents. He unwrapped the turkey sandwich and placed it in front of the wraith, who just stared at it. Alphonse set a small bunch of grapes and a water bottle next to it. He sat back and waited to see what it would do.

The wraith looked between Alphonse and the food. Alphonse kept a friendly smile on his face. The wraith poked at the sandwich and made a face. It looked back up at Alphonse as if asking a question.

“It’s called a sandwich,” Alphonse explained. To show him, Alphonse retrieved his own food from the same bag. He made sure the wraith was paying attention while he unwrapped his sandwich and bit into it. He gestured to the one sitting on the floor. Staying relaxed, he continued to eat, but kept a careful eye on the wraith.

The wraith watched him eat for a few minutes. It glanced at his meal and picked up his own sandwich to mimic Alphonse. It cautiously bit into the food and then immediately tore into it.

‘Poor thing must be starving,’ Alphonse thought as the wraith practically inhaled the sandwich and then went straight for the grapes. “Hey, be careful!” he spoke when the wraith almost choked.

It ignored him and devoured the grapes - even the stem. It paused to look at the bottle of water. Alphonse reached to open it and made a show of drinking his own water. The wraith caught on and gulped the water down.

His food forgotten, Alphonse just watched the wraith. It was almost impossible to separate it from Edward. Its mannerisms, its ravenous appetite - every little new thing that Alphonse observed reflected his own memories of Edward.

“I used to be so jealous of you,” Alphonse whispered. The wraith didn't seem to hear him as it went straight for Alphonse’s abandoned food. “You were a genius. This perfect prodigy. No one could touch you. You were smart, handsome, strong - all the girls loved you. I felt so plain living in your shadow. And now, look at us.”

The wraith finally paused and met Alphonse’s gaze. It made a soft whine. Alphonse just smiled sadly.

“I wonder if I did bring you back, would you remember me?” Alphonse boldly reached to stroke the wraith’s hair. To his amazement, it didn't pull away, it actually leaned into his touch. “We went through so much together. We swore we would always be together...and then you left me…”

He felt abandoned that night the doctor announced Edward had died. He felt like every promise they swore to each other was broken when Edward passed into the next life and left him behind. Alphonse felt so lost and abandoned. His rock and support was gone. He would never have Edward’s strength, love and crass sense of humor ever again. He felt so empty.

The wraith just watched him with mild interest. It seemed to be listening to him and allowed Alphonse to continue stroking its hair.

“Should I give you a name?” Alphonse asked. “I don’t think ‘Edward’ is appropriate. I don’t think it’ll ever be. But, a sentient creature should have some sort of name.” He thought for a moment and a short passage from a random history book popped up. “Ah-ha!”

The startled wraith looked up at him. “I will call you Montagu!” Alphonse announced. It just frowned at him and returned to finishing up the last of the food, including the cookies he found after rummaging in the bag.

The wraith whined when there was nothing more to eat. Alphonse wished he had brought more. If the wraith was like his brother, then surely it had Edward’s appetite. “I’ll bring more next time…Montagu.”

The wraith hummed and then looked around the room inquisitively, perhaps looking for more food.

Alphonse sobered. “I’m so sorry this happened to you…” Alphonse knew of the thousands of souls and beings that existed within the Gate. He himself had seen them when he lost his body. Every human being that ever lived existed inside that horrid place. It was a place outside human comprehension and something no one should ever witness. 

A chilling thought came to him. The wraith was clearly intelligent and aware now that Hohenheim let it be. What if there was a soul inside it now? He couldn't believe after what he witnessed that this thing was just an empty vessel. Nothing about its behavior suggested otherwise. Maybe as time went on it would gain more intelligence and maybe even begin to speak. There was a strong chance that it might even have memories.

“Just...what are you?” Alphonse asked. The wraith just looked at him. 

A door creaked open followed by the heavy footsteps of his father. Alphonse stood in front of the wraith protectively and waited for Hohenheim to enter. Hohenheim casually stepped into the room. He paused with a raised eyebrow at the scene before him. The wrappers were strewn about and the wraith cautiously waited behind Alphonse. His son made sure he was between the older alchemist and his creation.

“I see the two of you are getting along,” he said casually. “It was as I hoped.”

“He was hungry…” Alphonse looked at the forgotten wrappers. 

“I bet he was,” Hohenheim moved to get a better look. The wraith let out a loud hiss and crouched, ready to tackle him. “Just like your brother,” he smirked. He tried to get closer and the hiss became a growl.

“It’s okay, Montagu,” Alphonse said gently, waving the wraith back. It reluctantly calmed, but kept watching Hohenheim.

“Montagu?” Hohenheim repeated amusedly. “You gave it a name?”

“I couldn’t keep calling it ‘thing,” Alphonse huffed. “It deserves a name.”

“Why not Edward? I assumed that’s what you would name it,” Hohenheim said.

“It’s not Edward,” Alphonse said. “It’s...It has its own mind.”

“It will be,” Hohenheim said calmly, moving even closer. “It should be. It’s a perfect copy.”

“It’s not an empty vessel,” Alphonse argued. “It can understand things. It can learn. If it were just a container, it wouldn't show intelligence.”

“You have a point,” Hohenheim nodded. “However, like a homunculus, it may have its own body and mind, but no soul. We are trying to retrieve Edward’s soul.”

The wraith growled behind Alphonse. “You need to keep your distance. It doesn’t trust you,” Alphonse warned and backed closer to the wraith.

Hohenheim watched the two of them for a while. His cold stare made Alphonse shift nervously. He could never anticipate just what his father was thinking. Hohenheim was so aloof that Alphonse had to wonder if the man was even capable of genuine emotion.

“The love between the two of you is mesmerizing,” Hohenheim’s voice was barely audible. “Even now, you instinctively protect each other. This mindless creature has bonded to you so quickly. Its a bond that transcends time and logic. If I were to kill it right now, you would beat me bloody.”

“I would do so for any creature that you try to harm,” Alphonse said adamantly.

“But not with the ferocity I see in you right now,” Hohenheim countered.  He pointed to the wraith. “Or it.”

Alphonse glanced back. The wraith was now standing behind him in a defensive position. It looked at him and then at Hohenheim, ready to protect Alphonse at any moment. The sense of self-preservation was replaced by a stronger urge to defend and protect. When Hohenheim moved, it showed its teeth as a warning.

“Montagu, it’s okay,” Alphonse patted the air. He glared back at Hohenheim. “He won’t do anything.”

“I will not,” Hohenheim promised with a nod. “But I must ask you. What are you willing to give to convince Edward’s soul to return?”

“I thought you said there wasn't a need to exchange?” Alphonse said.

“Edward may ask you of something. It is likely that the Gate won’t ask you for a sacrifice. That’s up to Edward. You have to convince him to return of his own will, but he reserves the right to ask for something in return.”

“Like what?” Alphonse asked.

Hohenheim shrugged. “It could be anything. He could ask for money, sex, or repentance. But I doubt he would ask something of you that couldn’t be given.”

That couldn’t be given. Alphonse frowned. He had no idea what Edward could ask of him. Edward was never one to ask Alphonse of anything. He was absolutely selfless when it came to his little brother. It was almost frustrating as it sometimes proved detrimental to Edward’s own wellbeing. The only time he asked Alphonse for something was when he wanted to give him something. Money or sex made no sense. Repentance? Edward would never ask that as he believed he was the one who needed to repent.

Montagu made a soft whine. Alphonse felt it move until it was inches behind him. He caught a strange glint in Hohenheim’s eyes when he reached back to comfort the wraith by touching its shoulder. Hohenheim’s eyes narrowed when the wraith allowed Alphonse to touch it and even slowly reached up to hold Alphonse’s hand where it laid.

“Think about everything he could want, and then decide if it is something you are willing to give to bring him back,” Hohenheim’s words were icy. “Until then, decide the fate of that creature if your efforts fail.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Taibhse (irish gaelic) - ghost

Chapter 3!

Thanks to a moment of inspiration, this story was been extended to 4 chapters. The last two scenes went longer than expected. Thus, instead of making my readers sit through 40,000 words, I’ll let ya’ll take a pee and snack break while I finish up with the fourth chapter.

Fun fact: The invention of the sandwich was accredited to the English lord  John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich. A popular story is that he ordered his cook to make him something to eat that wouldn’t interfere with his gambling session. The cook put some meat between two slices of bread and struck gold. 

So I thought it would be cute if Alphonse named the wraith Montagu. He doesn't seem like the type to keep calling a living creature ‘thing’ or ‘it, especially if it looked human. He would give it a name.

Reviews make me write faster. And a Happy Very-Belated Halloween! EB

  
  



	4. Dybbuk

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, liked, and followed this fic! This is my first serious attempt into FMA and I hope you continue to enjoy it!

The Latin dialogue was brought to you by Google Translate. Please understand I don’t speak a lick of Latin, so don't expect any accuracy. My apologies to any native/fluent Latin speakers.

Warning: violence, gore

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Golem Chapter 4 - Dybbuk

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hey, Brother! Dinner’s ready!” Alphonse found his brother sitting in the study surrounded by dozens of alchemy books.

“Hey, what’re you looking at?” Alphonse stepped to his brother’s side. Edward didn’t respond at first, he continued to skim the complex mathematics written in their ancestral language. It was one of their earliest textbooks when they first began to practice alchemy and written by their father’s teacher. It was a book that Edward often kept for reference when they needed to return to basics.

“Just skimming,” Edward mumbled, flipping a page. “I haven’t seen this in a long time and just wanted to take a look.”

Alphonse didn't miss the wistful look in Edward’s gaze. He glanced at the other books piled neatly on the desk. They were all Edward’s favorite textbooks. Some he knew Edward had read dozens of times to the point of memorization. He watched Edward slowly skim a particularly complicated algorithm and rest the tip of his finger on a specific calculation, no doubt thinking of how he would revise the calculation to get a better result.

Edward was hailed as a true child prodigy of alchemy. A young god with unbelievable potential and power at his disposal. Many thought he would grow to become one of the legends of alchemy and have several textbooks about his skills written for upcoming alchemists. However, what made Edward a genius was not his technical skill, but his deep love of the art. Alphonse never saw his brother more alive than when he performed a transmutation or created a new alchemical array. The more complicated or impossible, the more excited and determined Edward became. His encounter with Truth left a burning desire for knowledge that added an extra spark to his passionate brother.

It saddened Alphonse. To bring him back to the world of the living, Edward gave up something he loved. After the chaos and mess finally died down and they had a chance to actually breathe, Alphonse saw the dimmed light in Edward’s eyes. While Edward remained his energetic and impassioned self, it was like something was still missing. He didn’t have that fire anymore. At first, Alphonse and everyone thought it was simply Edward finding peace after so many years of suffering, but as time went on, Alphonse saw the missing piece. Especially in moments like now, when Edward stared unblinking at his old alchemy books.

Alphonse didn't want to upset his brother, but he had to know. “Do you wish you could use alchemy again?”

“All the time,” Edward traced a beautifully designed array on the page. “There’s so much I could do. This symbol here - I would adjust it just a little and try it again. But I can’t.” He leaned back into the chair with a heavy sigh. “I miss it. I spent my whole life being an alchemist…”

Alphonse felt the pang of guilt. He knew without doubt that Edward didn’t regret giving up his alchemy. Edward was at a point to give up anything to see his little brother returned to his body. If the roles were reversed, Alphonse would’ve done the same without a second thought. However, it still pained him to see the hole it left behind in Edward.

Maybe there was a way. Maybe they could find another Gate or Alphonse could create a new transmutation circle that would restore Edward’s passion. There were emerging studies on the physiology of alchemy and how it impacts the body. There were even arguments that the energy needed to perform alchemy came from within the body and that equivalent exchange was arbitrary. It was all still new and purely theoretical, but those first steps showed promise.

“Perhaps....” Alphonse started. He hesitated when Edward’s feline eyes looked up at him curiously. “You know...Mustang is funding some researchers. They have this interesting hypothesis that-”

“Don’t think about that, Al,” Edward impatiently waved him off. “I don’t need that. I’m done with searching for the impossible. I accomplished what I wanted. That’s it. Everything is okay.”

‘But everything is not okay,’ Alphonse wanted to argue, but he wisely remained quiet and only gave a quiet ‘hmm.’ It frustrated him that Edward never fully opened up. Many thought the only person Edward would show any vulnerability with was Alphonse, but he guarded his feelings even with his little brother.

Alphonse watched Edward pick up a pen and casually scribble a note next to the aforementioned array. He immediately understood why Edward wanted to adjust the original design just by watching the scrawled notes in the margins. He then noticed how Edward seemed to struggle to hold the pen, which made his writing come out scratchy and uneven.

“We can work on this together,” Alphonse said when Edward put the pen down with an annoyed huff and tried to stretch his fingers. “You can do the mathematics and I can execute them. It will be like old times.”

“That might be nice,” Edward mumbled noncommittally. Alphonse wasn’t even sure Edward was actually listening. Edward’s gaze was distant, not quite seeing what was in front of him, but remaining only minimally aware.

Edward set the book down and picked up another one. “This book is on Discordian Alchemy. Discordian is the opposite of Amestran. It pretty much says that equivalent exchange is bullshit.” Edward chuckled. “Might be worth our time.”

That did sound interesting. “Quite possibly.”

“Remember how we talked about travelling the world and learning about the different styles of alchemy?” Edward asked, flipping through the pages. “Alkahestry and Alchemy are the two major philosophies, but there are several dozens more. This author...” Edward pointed to the author biography at the front of the book. “He argues that what we call ‘alchemy’ in Amestrian is actually a modern application of the alchemy practiced in Xerxes. Alchemy is just an umbrella term for dozens of styles and theories. He calls our style Modern Xerxian Alchemy.”

“That does sound really cool,” Alphonse had to agree. “Maybe you could become a scholar and analyze these different theories and come up with your own?”

Edward huffed. “I don't have the patience to be a professor. I learn better by doing, not reading about other people.”

Edward paused for a long time and then finally continued in a slow, wistful voice. “I thought I’d be happy to finally settle down. At least, I liked the idea. But I dreamed of exploring the world and experiencing the things I missed as a kid.” He set the book down with finality. “But it’s too late now.”

“It’s never too late,” Alphonse picked the book back up and placed it closer to his brother. “There is always a way. That’s what we always said.”

Edward smiled at him sadly. “Yes...we did…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Al…”

“Ahl…”

“Faw…”

“Fha”

“Nse…”

“Enz...:”

“Alphonse…”

“Ahl-Fahnz…”

“Good!” Alphonse smiled and gave Montagu another cookie. The gutteral noises the wraith made were finally showing some semblance of human speech. So far, Montagu would only say Alphonse’s name or his own. That was two words after three hours of coaxing. They were making good progress.

Much like Edward, Montagu bored very quickly. Unless Alphonse bribed him with food, Montagu saw no problem in getting into mischief. Alphonse lengthened the tarp that bound the wraith to the wall so he had room to stand and stretch his legs. Immediately, the wraith decided it was a good idea to grab some of the bottles and miscellaneous tools on the shelves with loud clanks. When Alphonse tried to stop him, he only growled until Alphonse had no choice but to back away until he was done. Alphonse could only keep Montagu’s attention with treats or finding something novel to show him.

Watching Montagu focus on whatever trinket he found left Alphonse uneasy. His expressions and mannerisms increasingly reflected that of Edward - or maybe Alphonse was just projecting because the wraith was an exact copy of his late brother. He honestly didn’t know. Any attempts to remain neutral and regard this thing as an empty shell were increasingly difficult as this creature showed more and more signs of having its own personality and temperament.

It made Alphonse worry. The thought of this being some random soul dragged back from the Gate became more plausible. Just as likely, Montagu could be just a fancily created homunculus and would eventually develop some kind of mutant power like the others. The more he thought about it, the less Alphonse believed that this was just some mindless container.

A growl from Montagu alerted Alphonse to Hohenheim’s presence. Right on cue, the door creaked open and his father’s imposing figure entered. Hohenheim paused at the scene they made. Montagu crouched behind Alphonse while the latter regarded Hohenheim with cold indifference.

“You two are getting along,” Hohenheim observed.

“He’s more manageable when he’s given something to do,” Alphonse explained.

“Ah-fonz?” Montagu questioned, shifting to be more next to Alphonse than behind. He stared at Hohenheim but made no other movements or sounds.

Hohenheim looked surprised. “You taught it to speak?”

“He can only say my name and his own,” Alphonse reached back to pat Montagu’s forearm. The wraith grew more agitated when Hohenheim was near. Another reminder of Edward.

“Ah-fonz…” Montagu murmured with a frown.

Hohenheim was disapproving. “You shouldn’t do that. Allowing its consciousness to grow will make it harder to bind Edward’s soul to the body. Gaining self-awareness will ruin any chance of binding Edward to the body. There won't be any room.”

“That’s no reason to treat it like an object,” Alphonse countered. “It’s still a living creature.”

Hohenheim wrinkled his nose and gave an annoyed huff. “You set yourself up for failure with your sentimentality. It looks like your brother, but remember it is still a container.”

Alphonse looked back at Montagu. Even if Hohenheim was right, he couldn’t think of it as an object. The wraith showed intelligence and alertness. It wasn’t some mindless mannequin.

“Have you thought about what you will offer your brother?”

Alphonse hesitated. He honestly didn't know what he could offer to Edward to make him return. “I don’t know…”

“Nothing?” Hohenheim pressed, arms crossed.

“I don’t know what Edward could want…” Alphonse whispered. “I never knew what he wanted. He was always concerned for me - and sometimes others. He said he only wanted to see my body returned, but nothing more. After the Promised Day, he seemed...lost. He had this...wanderlust that left him anxious. He and I both thought that domestic life would bring us happiness. But for Edward...It was like he lost his energy.”

“That sounds like him,” Hohenheim replied. “I saw in him a charge that a simple housewife and home couldn’t bring him. I was similar at his age. The thought of a domestic life held no appeal for me. It felt more like a prison than a home.”

“I can see…” Alphonse whispered. Edward never seemed like the type to just settle down and get a normal job. The thrill of the chase and the pursuits of more were at the core of what drove his brother. Domestic life couldn't give him that. Even if Edward insisted otherwise. It was the main reason Edward and Winry’s relationship never blossomed. She wanted a husband. Edward wanted freedom.

“He didn't want to give up his freedom,” Alphonse said, glancing back at the wraith who just watched them in silence.

“He spent his life in chains,” Hohenheim stated.

Alphonse looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Edward’s existence never went beyond you or the Philosopher’s Stone. When that was fulfilled, he had nothing left.” Hohenheim moved to place a hand on Alphonse’s shoulder. Montagu growled, but Hohenheim ignored him. “Keep thinking. It will come to you. No one knows Edward better than you.”

“I’m not so sure…” Alphonse whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Hohenheim paused as a memory came to him. “By the way, a telegram came for you at the hotel. It’s from Winry. That’s the entire reason I came. The receptionist said it was urgent and you were to call her as soon as possible.”

“Damn!” Alphonse hissed. In the couple of weeks he was in this bizarre situation, he completely forgot about his fiance. He didn't even think to call or send a message to assure her all was well. Because all wasn’t well, but how would he explain that? He knew Winry would be irate.

Alphonse stumbled to his feet, mumbling an apology to the wraith when he roughly bumped into it. Montagu just humphed and went back to his corner. He check to make sure Montagu was still bound as he still didn't trust it wouldn’t attack Hohenheim. He mumbled a goodbye and rushed out to hopefully save himself from a harsh fate.

Alphonse managed to remember one more thing before he left. “Don’t bother him,” he ordered sternly at his father. And then he was gone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was alone. With him. With the man.

This man. It didn't trust him. Not like how it trusted the other man. Ah-fonz- _Alphonse_. It didn’t like the way this man looked at him.

Pulled from the darkness. Searing pain. No thoughts. No memories. This man twisted it into something. It didn’t know. It hurt. It felt the bones and flesh twisting and reforming. Tissues torn from its bones.  Its skin burned. It screamed. The man just watched. A sadistic gleam. He wanted it to hurt.

A gentle smile. Wide brown eyes. It had to escape. The man yelled after it. It disappeared. It didn't want to feel the burning pain again. It was all it knew, but it wanted the pain to stop. Broken glass. Blood. Everything hurt. It couldn't get the bleeding to stop. A shard was driven deep in the skin. It had to stop. Find a way to make it stop.

The brown-eyed man found him. Gentle. Smiling. It didn't feel in danger, but remained cautious.

_“Let me take a look. I can fix it.”_

He touched him. The pain was sharp. It snarled. The brown-eyed man stepped back. Sweet. Calm.

_“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. Everything is alright.”_

He fixed it. The bleeding stopped. It felt safe. It felt like this person could be trusted. This person loved it. But it didn't know who he was. The man came back. It felt _they_ were in danger. This man brought suffering. Heartbreak. He hurt them before. He made them suffer. It didn't know how or why, but he did. It had to make him stay away.

“Ah-fonz…”

“Alphonse will be back,” The man said, he tried to sound comforting, but it made its blood run cold. It backed away, showing his teeth. Don’t come near. Stay away.

It remembered something. This man was someone it wanted to be like, wanted to emulate in every way possible. A genius. A prodigy. No one could do what he could and the connection they shared would bring immense knowledge. But then everything went wrong. It lost everything and it was the man’s fault. This man brought pain where he went. No matter what, it could never forgive him.

He didn't stay away. The man came closer. Another growl. It was ignored. “Ah-fonz!”

“Calm down…”

It didn't calm down. It couldn’t. Not with this danger in front of it. It felt angry. Betrayed. This man betrayed him. Betrayed him many times over and then some. For many years. He said he loved it, but it was all lies. The growls turned into shrieks. A clap and then bright light. Its hands were bound. It was slammed to the floor and twisted onto his back. It was dragged into the center of the floor - the circle. The circle… it should know what it was, the meaning, but it didn't know.

Where was the brown-eyed man? Did he abandon it? The way the two men spoke seemed like he went to fetch something. Maybe return with more food. The old man tricked him. He wouldn't leave it like this. It could see in his eyes. This bastard tricked him into leaving so he could hurt it more.

Its limbs were stretched. Anger mixed with fear. No! Not again! It hurt too much! Where was -  

“Ah-fonz!”

A shove. “Quiet!” Then the man paused and leaned back.

“You always hated me,” the man whispered. “No matter what I did. You decided you would hate me until the end. Reason and logic meant nothing. The greater good meant nothing. You swore to hate me until your last breath. You were the only one who understood that I could never be forgiven. It don't stop me from trying.”

The binds tightened. The man leaned closer. “I’m doing this for you. This will make everything right. You will have what you always wanted.”

The man stood and moved to the edge of the circle. His struggle renewed. The man just watched. “I could cure every illness on the planet and you would still never forgive me. You were too immersed in your anger and pain. I understand. But it’s still frustrating. And you did it to yourself.”

It didn't know what the man meant. It left him scared and angry. This-this delusional selfishness. It dripped from every word. He didn't deserve forgiveness - not now and not ever. He couldn’t be forgiven because he didn't understand forgiveness. Forgiveness wasn't an equivalent exchange. No tangible act to be equivalent to forgiveness. There is nothing equal to forgiveness or love - or hate.

“If this doesn't work then I’ll just repurpose it for Sixteen…Sixteen deserves another life more than you.”

Bound, he could only watch as the man retrieved an ornate dagger from his coat. A candle was lit. He held the blade over the flame. A hiss. The man returned and the fear increased when the hot tip brushed his chest.

“Ah-fonz!” it screamed as it bucked against the floor. “ _Ah-fonz!_ ”

_‘Help me!’_

The sound of searing flesh. It screamed again, reaching pitches that were inhuman. The old man remained cold, holding it still as the array was carved into his chest.

And yet, it wasn't surprising. It was even expected. The man thought he was helping, but all it did was hurt. But the man didn't know. He didn’t see. He didn't understand just how he hurt others - hurt it. He wanted their forgiveness, but he did nothing to earn it. He didn’t acknowledge why he should be forgiven. He never gave a reason. He just wanted their pity.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

‘That went well,’ Alphonse thought grimly as he made his way back to the warehouse.

He tried to make up some half-assed story to keep Winry from freaking out but it didn't do much. He told her that Hohenheim wanted his assistance with some alchemical experiment in human physiology. His first mistake was saying ‘human.’ He should’ve practiced before talking with her. She went into a tirade about how he was stupid to allow his father to ‘use him again!’ Her rants was interspersed with warning after warning about how Hohenheim was a sorry manipulator who preyed on Alphonse and Edward’s need for a father.

“Al, please! You idiot!’ she yelled into the phone and made his ears ring. “Just let him go! He doesn't give one shit about you and never will!”

“It’s more than that, Win,” Alphonse tried to reason, but she cut him off.

“What’s more?” she demanded. “What are you doing?!”

“I...I can’t explain. He’s - he’s trying this new secret alchemical theory and it takes two alchemists and-”

“What. Are. You. Helping. Him. Do!?” She snarled. “What is he making you do?”

Alphonse had no idea how to explain the harebrained scheme to resurrect his brother. Any sane person would’ve learned their lesson the first time, especially after what they went through to rectify their mistakes. It was pure idiocy and arrogance.

“He said Edward left behind unfinished business,” Alphonse tried to bring his story back on track. “He wants to...accomplish this in honor of Brother’s memory.”

“What business, Alphonse Elric?!” Winry was exasperated. She clearly didn't like that Alphonse was making her beat around the bush. “Why are you hiding things from me?”

He was hiding the fact that she could never fill the void left behind by Edward. As much as he loved Winry, any thoughts of a future were tainted by the fact that he couldn’t share it with Edward. He didn't want Winry to truly know the extent of his codependency. He and Edward were glued to each other’s sides for so long that to look and not see his brother next to him left Alphonse disoriented and empty.

He was well-aware that Hohenheim was manipulating him. But he would be lying if there wasn't a part of him that wanted to believe he could have his brother back with little or no cost. Maybe it was...Maybe it was Alphonse's deep yearning for his brother’s company masked as misguided avarice.

He picked up his pace. He didn’t like that he left Hohenheim alone with the wraith. He knew his father would try something.

He made it to the warehouse. He quickly made his way into the darkness. He froze when he heard a distinct scream echoing from the Montagu’s room. He ran until he burst through the door to protect the creature. He found Montagu pinned to the floor in the center of an elaborate transmutation circle. He caught the scent of burning flesh and the brandmark on the wraith’s chest.

“What the hell did you do?!” he shouted and he fell to his knees to calm the creature. “Are you insane!?”

The wraith made a pitiful keening noise and tried to shift closer to Alphonse. Alphonse looked up at his father who remained cold standing to the side of the circle.

“It is time to perform the transmutation,” was the only explanation Hohenheim gave.

The wraith tried to move closer to Alphonse. “This has gone too far, Hohenheim!” Alphonse glared at his father. “I can’t let you do this!”

“And then what?” Hohenheim remained unaffected. “What becomes of it?”

What was left of Alphonse’s temper fizzled. “I know why Edward hated you! You are an arrogant, cold-hearted, narcissistic bastard of a man! I just - I can't find words to describe how absolutely disgusting I think you are! This need to play God and this obscene idea of rectifying your mistakes is just….it’s horrid!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” Hohenheim growled, standing his imposing figure above Alphonse. “And why are you here? That same need to be God. You failed to bring back your mother and lost your body. And yet, here you are trying to circumvent fate because of the small chance to see your brother again. “

“Edward was all I had!” Alphonse broke down. “Mother was all I had! You left! You left us with nothing. I watched my mother die and then my brother’s body eviscerated to save my life. You were never there for us! I don’t care what your excuses are. _You were never there!”_

“What do you want me to do then?!” Hohenheim also lost the last of his composure. “What could I possibly do to right the wrong of my past!? I’ve given you my knowledge and helped you save Amestris from total destruction. I’ve tried countless times to become a better part of your life, but you still rejected every attempt I made. You could never understand the Truth and what it takes to understand. It is obvious you and brother can’t exist without each other. I’m fixing a fate that should never have happened.”

“When did we ask you to fix anything!?” Alphonse argued. “That’s where you keep messing up. You look down on others when your efforts are rejected! We can see right through them! You were only a part of our lives when it was convenient for you or it was coincidental.You’re so sanctimonious that you can’t be bothered to ask how you can seek forgiveness. ”

“Even if I did, I see now that it’s fruitless,” Hohenheim hissed. “Asking you now how to earn your forgiveness is futile because it’s clear you’ve already decided.”

“You can earn my forgiveness by leaving and never coming back,” Alphonse said vehemently. “You can act like you never existed.”

“And what will you do now, Alphonse?” Hohenheim asked coldly, pointing to the wraith. “You brought this creature into existence. It’s fate lies in your hands.”

“Don’t you dare put this on me!” Alphonse started to yell, but Hohenheim interrupted.

“I have no use for it,” Hohenheim said. “If you leave now, I will simply put it out of its misery.”

Alphonse looked between Hohenheim and the scared face of the wraith. He felt both fear and anger at his father’s open manipulation. He knew he was being tricked. If he left now, he would damn this poor thing to a horrible fate. If he stayed...

He looked down at the wraith. It stared up at him with those golden eyes. It’s face a perfect mirror of Edward. But it was softer, pleading. It was scared and looked to him for protection. It was a soulless body. The more he looked at it, the less he could separate it from his brother. There would be no justice for this wraith nor for Edward.

Alphonse slumped. There was no winning. He couldn’t in good conscience leave this thing to whatever fate his father planned. However, what would he do with it? Such a thing would bring about scrutiny and danger. But maybe he could buy time and find a loophole of sorts. He came too far and no matter how he saw it, he still held some, if not all, of the responsibility for this thing’s fate. He still had a chance to turn things around in his favor. He just needed another way.

“Fine…” Alphonse gave in grudgingly. He avoided the wraith’s wide eyes. “There’s no turning back now. I miss my brother and if I can get away with this - which you believe that I can, I will go through with it.”

“Is that your final decision?” Hohenheim calmed into stony neutrality.

“Yes…” Alphonse returned the stare without budging.

_‘Just hang on, Brother. I’ll find a way out.’_

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alphonse sat next to the wraith, storking its hair to keep it calm while Hohenheim made the final preparations.

“I’m so sorry you had to be dragged into this,” he said to the wraith. “I don’t know what or who you are but you don’t deserve this.”

The wraith just groaned. The strong sedative was kicking in. It leaned into Alphonse’s touch with a heavy sigh.

If this didn’t work, Alphonse would find a home for this thing. He had to keep it away from the military and mad scientists. Perhaps, he could teach it to be independent. If it continued to gain self-awareness, he could maybe teach it a trade. He just knew that whatever fate had for this creature, he would see that such a fate was as painless as possible. It was his duty.

“It’s ready…”

Alphonse stood. The circle waited for him. In the center he could see the drawing of the reptilian eye that watched from behind the gate. Even as a drawing it still left him feeling afraid. But the blind fear he once had when looking into the Eye had dulled from his years of being trapped inside the Gate. He regarded it with cautious respect and swore to never come near it again.

‘Yet, here I am…’

“Alright,” he murmured, standing up and awaiting instructions.

“Have you thought of what to offer your brother?” Hohenheim asked before getting tino place.

“I...have an idea, but it might not work,” Alphonse still didn't know, but it was too late to say now.

Hohenheim just told him to hold still and envision the gate. Reluctantly, he did. The familiar chills came quickly as the room erupted in that damned blue and and Alphonse was blinded.

When Alphonse opened his eyes again, it was that same white void that haunted his dreams.

He looked around. It was as he remembered. A void that robbed him of his senses. He couldn't smell, hear, touch, taste - his ability to see remained in question as there was nothing to look at. It was all just white.

He took a deep breath. The void absorbed the sound. He didn't know what to do from this point. He decided to just wait. It didn’t take too long.

“You again…”

That white silhouette wreathed in a grey halo appeared before Alphonse in its usual cross-legged position. That same devious grin on its eyeless face made Alphonse nearly run screaming. It was such a small unassuming thing and yet, it held so much power and cruelty. To this day, he had no idea what to call It. It was something that went beyond the tangible and remained nameless.

“It’s okay to talk…” Truth smirked. “What brings you here this time? I was actually starting to miss you.”

“I’m here…” Alphonse started awkwardly. His voice sounded like he was speaking into a pillow. It sounded so dull that he could barely make out what he was saying. He gathered himself and spoke as clearly as possible. “I’m here to speak to my brother, Edward Elric.”

“Really?” the condescending tone picked at Alphonse’s patience. “How do you plan to do that? He returned to the void a long time ago. His existence is indistinguishable from the millions of others.”

“He will come to me,” Alphonse insisted. “I’m here to ask him to return to our world.”

If the Truth had eyebrows, one would be raised. “You’re here to ask? That’s new. I would assume such a powerful alchemist wouldn't need manners for his transmutations.”

“I’m not transmuting anything,” Alphonse said, daring to step closer. “I’m not forcing my brother to do anything he won't consent to. I’m here to give him another chance at life.”

“Well...that’s a new approach…” The Truth was bemused. “But after all your brother suffered, surely there is more peace inside the Gate? What could possibly make him want to return?”

“His family…”

The Truth huffed impatiently. “Pfft! He had a family and look what good it did him. It didn't stop the absolute hell that made up his life. How many times had he escaped death all because he was trying to help some needy idiot - or you? His foolish guilt was the only thing keeping him alive.”

“We promised to always be together!” Alphonse insisted. “We swore to each other that we would never leave each other's side!”

The Truth snorted. “Has anyone pointed out just how creepy your brotherly love is? There are rumors…”

Alphonse wasn't going to let it distract him. “I’m here to see my brother and speak to him - not you!”

“Even if you think that gaining your brother’s consent to return to that abomination of a creature will absolve you of the Gate’s toll, then you are stupid.” the Truth said flatly.

“I understand,” Alphonse said carefully. “But I choose what to sacrifice.”

“Hmm?” the Truth was amused. “What if I don't want it?”

“Then we can negotiate. But I won't let you arbitrarily pick a sacrifice from me,” Alphonse remained steadfast.

“I see…” it said contemplatively. “Then what do you think is equivalent to passing through the Gate to find your brother? It still must be paid even if you fail. Your brother retains the right to say no, but the toll remains.”

“I’ll decide when-”

“You pay it now,” Truth interrupted. “I know you have something. I don’t have time for coyness.”

His fist clenched and unclenched. He hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “The wraith...it has its own mind. I can give you that.”

The Truth sat back in mild surprise. “I never thought you the type to sacrifice a living creature. I always thought you were the sweet brother.”

“It’s a vessel with its own mind,” saying that sentence disgusted him. “It’s life is of some value.”

For a moment, it looked like the Truth would disagree. But then, Alphonse felt its eyeless gaze drill into him, searching for any sign of insincerity. Images of the wraith and Edward passed through his mind as if someone was flipping through a photo album. Seemingly satisfied, the Truth shifted to make itself more comfortable. “I suppose that’ll have to do.” It waved and with a loud, metallic groan, the Gate appeared behind it.

Alphonse tried to suppress the shudders when the Gate loomed above him. The ornate carvings of times past were just as he remembered. Another groan, the Gate opened. Alphonse stepped back instinctively. He couldn't help it. If he got too close, it might drag him in. The center eye opened and Alphonse tried not to scream. It was so evil to look at and embodied every fear known to man. It was a place no mortal belonged. The Eye narrowed at him.

“Go ahead,” The Truth said casually. “He’s in there somewhere. Hopefully, he’ll recognize you.” When Alphonse gave a confused look, the Truth sighed. “Death changes things. He might not be what you remember.”

Going against every survival instinct, Alphonse dragged his feet to take him into the Gate. He got the the edge of the black abyss and dozens more eyes appeared to stare at him in mild curiosity. He looked at each one, vainly hoping he would recognize his brother’s eyes, but they all looked the same.

“Edward Elric?” He tried to call out.

“Family names mean nothing here, Alchemist,” the Truth said annoyedly, but he explained no further.

A shaky breath. Alphonse tried again. “Edward? Brother?”

The small eyes faded into the blackness. Alphonse finally gathered enough bravery to step inside. He stayed inside the pool of light leaking from the void. He ventured until he reached the very edge, but he couldn't make himself go any further. A few eyes appeared when he called. They floated around him. They waited.

“Edward’ is a common name,” the Truth mocked. Alphonse wanted to tell it to be quiet, but he wouldn't dare turn his attention away.

The eyes all watched him. For a moment, Alphonse wanted to just give up, tell his father to go fuck himself, and never come back. His arms and knees were shaking and he was forcing himself to breathe evenly. His mind raced. He tried to make sense of his thoughts so he could think of the one thing that would help him find his brother among the hundreds of eyes.

It came to him. It wasn’t foolproof. But it was the only thing that he could think of.

“Edward? Frater? Illic es?”

The eyes whittled down to just a few who could understand the long dead language. But there were still too many.

Alphonse raised his voice slightly, watching the eyes. “Ego sum frater tuus, Alphonse. Et venerunt ad te.”

Still too many. Alphonse grinded his teeth. This wasn’t working. What could make the eyes decrease? He thought for a moment. Nothing came to him. Maybe if he asked a question.

“Ubi enim germinare?”

A few more disappeared. Only a dozen remained. Alphonse swore under his breath.

“You do have other relatives…” Truth pointed out sarcastically. “Grandparents are a thing, you know.”

“I said be quiet!” Alphonse didn't care that he was yelling at what was technically God.

“Just thought I’d point it out,” Truth shrugged.

Alphonse thought of another question. This will definitely whittle them down. “Habeo originis nota. Ubi est?

Only six disappeared. Damn. He tried again. “Quid enim tamquam?”

Now there were four. Alphonse guessed one was his mother and two were his maternal grandparents who likely recognized him. His father’s grandparents wouldn’t know who he was. But something was off. Someone was off.

“Numquid non in ventre aut pedem meum?” Two pairs of eyes remained. Alphonse had to be looking at his mother and Edward. It was so very chilling. He wanted to reach out and see if they would reach back, but he didn’t. There was a sinister aura about them that made him step back. He knew his mother only spoke the bare minimum of Xerxian. He would have to speak more fluently.

An idea - a memory - came to him. “Alchimia chao, quod est equivalent ad commutationem habeat opinionem valere non potest. Est illusio. Nihil mutandum sacrificare solum quoad perceptionem re dubitatio. Hoc est verum?”

One pair of eyes remained. Alphonse bit back the surge of excitement. It worked! The only people who could speak Xerxian were bound inside his father! And only his family would know. But only Edward knew of this alchemy.

“Edward? Frater? Est tibi?” His voice came out tight. Every muscles was tensed.

“Etiam…” A voice rumbled in the darkness. It sounded like two voices speaking at once in perfect sync. He thought recognized his brother’s voice. But it sounded wrong.

Alphonse couldn’t decide if he was frightened out of his mind or just numb. The voice came from everywhere around him and he felt vulnerable. It left him quivering. He calmed himself and tried to speak s confidently as possible. “Ego sum venire ad vos revertetur ad me petere. Illic est adeo exspectat.”

“Nihil enim in me…Non fuit ibi”

Alphonse expected this. He gasped for the only straw he could think of. “Est! Tu aliquando viderat iter orbis terrarum nova inveniendi via alchimiae. Redire potuimus invenire viam tuam alchimia!”

Heavy silence. The ghost spoke. “Hinc possum invenire…”

“Non se vigilare. Et dixerunt ipsum.” Alphonse insisted. “Quod non est verum. Nonne ea quae sunt ad te, et tu eras magna? Nemo potest facere quae tu facis.”

“Obsequium non arguere me. Hanc vitam duxit me dolor. Ego hic in pace.” The voice was cold.

Alphonse bit back a sob. Now that it was actually possible, he didn’t want to give up. He had to think of something. “Quid mea promissa? Levavi manum meam ut non relinquam vobis Non possum hic si fidem!”

“Est promissum tuum. Non est meum.” The voice was cold and flat. Alphonse could feel the spirit he hoped was his brother turning away from him. He was dismayed at the dismissal.

“Frater! Te desidero! Quod dabo tibi. Porta pretium est scriptor theloneo. Et ego dabo vobis quid quaeris!” Alphonse pleaded.

That was it. He didn’t have anything else. He could think of nothing that would convince Edward to return. He had no idea what could convince Edward - this _spirit_ to return. What would be the one thing that Edward would ask of his little brother?

_“That life brought me pain…”_ It’s words echoed in Alphonse’s mind.

Pain. Alphonse could understand. Not once did her ever see Edward truly happy. He saw every wound and scar laid on Edward’s overexerted body. He watched his brother slowly die from years of physical and mental torture. He thought of the enemies who tried to kill them - kill him and Edward always stopped them from hurting his Alphonse. But then, Edward took the most of the pain and Alphonse could only watch in guilt and helplessness. All Edward did was suffer at the hands of others.

The hands of others...their enemies.

“Et ulciscar ultionem tuam!” Alphonse promised.

There was a heavy silence. Alphonse could feel the spirit contemplating his offer. He didn’t want to, but that was the reality. A life for his brother’s life. An equivalent exchange.

“Et ulciscatur me Dominus. Et in unum eligere adducere. Et non morieris in manibus meis,” the cold voice said to Alphonse’s relief and anxiety. “Ergo tantum reddet tibi.”

“Ita, Frater …” Alphonse said without hesitation. He knew what Brother wanted.

Alphonse exited the Gate. the Truth was waiting for him with a malicious grin. He heard everything.

“So I guess you’ll be on your way?” He sounded too eager to see this unfold.

“I will…”

The Truth waved his hand. Another gate appeared. Without hesitation, Alphonse stepped through the portal with the vengeful spirit behind him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

There was another flash of blinding light. Alphonse was kneeling in the center of the circle. He looked up to see Hohenheim staring at him expectantly.

“Did it work?” Hohenheim asked. “Are you alright?”

“Yes…” Alphonse said slowly, standing up from the floor. He turned to see the wraith still lying in its back, eyes closed and in a deep sleep.

“What did you offer Edward?”

“What we always wanted…” Alphonse whispered, watching the wraith begin to stir.

Hohenheim eyebrows furrowed. His gaze broke when the wraith made a growl and awoke. Alphonse remained still while the wraith sat up with a groan and looked around sluggishly. Its eyes became alert when it recognized Hohenheim and it grinned cruelly. Both Alphonse and Hohenheim could sense the rejuvenated consciousness.

Alphonse blankly watched his father’s face turn white. “Alphonse...what did you do?” Hohenheim shouted.

Alphonse just stepped aside to give the wraith more space. “I gave him what he wanted.” He glared at his father. “What we _all_ wanted.”

Sensing the impending danger, Hohenheim tried to transmute a bind for both of them. But Alphonse beat him to it and he trapped Hohenheim in a stone hand. Alphonse quietly approached until he was face to face with his father. He took a sick pleasure in seeing his usually stoic father look frightened. Alphonse just watched him, their gazes met and neither wavered.

“What did you offer him?” Hohenheim growled. He looked past Alphonse when the wraith made a loud cackling noise. It lurked in the dim light and then slinked up to stand behind Alphonse. It looked at its prey with a malicious glee.

“What we all wanted,” Alphonse repeated, shifting the stone binds until more of his father’s body was exposed. The wraith grunted in appreciation and stood beside Alphonse. It then sauntered up to Hohenheim. It grinned impossibly wider.

“Death changes people,” Alphonse said, dreamily watching the wraith. “Only the rawest of emotions remains. And the darker they are, the more they stain whatever was good about the person.”

“Alphonse!” Hohenheim growled. “How dare you!? I did this for you.”

Alphonse sneered. So did the wraith. “It was never about us. It was always about you. It’s always about you.” Alphonse walked until he stood in the corner, aloof and missing the wide-eyed sweetness he was known for. Completely detached and free of any sympathy.

Hohenheim watched the wraith crawl up to him. It gave a low inhuman chuckle when it came within inches of his face. Its grin was frighteningly identical to the Truth’s.

“Ego enim dabo tibi reddere tibi causa doloris nobis, Hohenheim,” it’s voice was coarse and demonic. This thing wasn't human. “Bastardis.”

Realization came to Hohenheim. He looked into mismatched eyes. “Edward….Sedecim!”

“Non est nobis,” The wraith laughed and with unbridled excitement tore into Hohenheim’s chest.

Alphonse watched. The gore didn't bother him as much as he thought. He had seen enough violence and blood to render him unmoved, even if it was his own father being ripped apart by some dybbuk dragged from the abyss. He didn’t do anything. This was his father’s fate.

Hohenheim tried not to scream. Tried to preserve his pride. But after a few minutes his pained grunts turned into full out wails when the wraith tore into muscle with its bare hands. Amidst his father’s screams where the crazed yells of the wraith that sounded like there were others in the room. It was by pure strength it could tear into the dense muscle of Hohenheim’s abdomen. But it wasn’t in a hurry.

Some blood splattered on Alphonse’s face. He casually wiped it off. The wraith’s sadism was affecting him. It felt good to have someone suffer an unfair and cruel fate for once. He wanted someone to truly understand the absolute torment he and his brother endured for their entire childhood. They saw and experienced things no children should and the world just let them rot. He wanted his father to understand just how what did and why he could never have their forgiveness. He watched this thing laugh in pleasure as Hohenheim made his last chokes. He watched his father grasp at the air as blood filled his throat and oozed out of the hole made in his trachea. Alphonse smirked.

The wraith took its time. Hohenheim's flailing arms died into pitiful convulsions. He drowned in his own blood. Still, the wraith tore at what was left of him. It would make him suffer until the final moment. Finally, Hohenheim went still. The wraith licked at his blood. Satisfied.

The wraith spun on its heel to hurry up to Alphonse. Without hesitation, it grabbed his head and planted a bloody kiss at the corner of his mouth. It wrapped its arms around him and cooed. Alphonse hugged it back, stroking blood-stained hair. The wraith pulled away with a sharky grin.

“Alphonse,” it said clearly.

Alphonse nodded. “Let’s go home...” he stepped over his father’s disemboweled body.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Gate scene translated:

“Edward? Brother? Are you there??”

The eyes whittled down to just a few who could understand the long dead language. But there were still too many.

Alphonse raised his voice slightly, watching the eyes. “I am your brother, Alphonse. I have come for you.”

Still too many. Alphonse grinded his teeth. This wasn’t working. What could make the eyes decrease? He thought for a moment. Nothing came to him. Maybe if he asked a question.

“Where did we grow up?”

A few more disappeared. Only a dozen remained. Alphonse swore under his breath.

“You do have other relatives…” Truth pointed out sarcastically. “Grandparents are a thing, you know.”

“I said be quiet!” Alphonse didn't care that he was yelling at what was technically God.

“Just thought I’d point it out,” Truth shrugged.

Alphonse thought of another question. This will definitely whittle them down. “I have a birthmark. Where is it??

Only six disappeared. Damn. He tried again. “What does it look like?”

Now there were four. Alphonse guessed one was his mother and two were his maternal grandparents who likely recognized him. His father’s grandparents wouldn’t know who he was. But something was off. Someone was off.

“Is it on my stomach or my foot?” Two pairs of eyes remained. Alphonse had to be looking at his mother and Edward. It was so very chilling. He wanted to reach out and see if they would reach back, but he didn’t. There was a sinister aura about them that made him step back. He knew his mother only spoke the bare minimum of Xerxian. He would have to speak more fluently.

An idea - a memory - came to him. “Discordian alchemy is the belief that equivalent exchange has no meaning. It is an illusion. There is nothing to sacrifice as it is only changing the perception of the matter in question. Is this true?”

One pair of eyes remained. Alphonse bit back the surge of excitement. It worked! The only people who could speak Xerxian were bound inside his father! And only his family would know. But only Edward knew of this alchemy.

“Edward? Brother? Is it you?” His voice came out tight. Every muscles was tensed.

“Yes…” A voice rumbled in the darkness. It sounded like two voices speaking at once in perfect sync. He thought recognized his brother’s voice. But it sounded wrong.

Alphonse couldn’t decide if he was frightened out of his mind or just numb. The voice came from everywhere around him and he felt vulnerable. It left him quivering. He calmed himself and tried to speak s confidently as possible. “I have come to ask you to return with me. There's so much waiting for you.”

“There is nothing there for me. There never was.”

Alphonse expected this. He gasped for the only straw he could think of. “There is! You dreamed of traveling the world and discovering new types of alchemy. We could find a way to return your alchemy!”

Heavy silence. The ghost spoke. “I can discover from here…”

“You were never a watcher!" Alphonse insisted. “You had to do things yourself and you were great at it! No one could do what you could!”

“Flattery won't convince me. That life brought me pain. I am at peace here.” The voice was cold.

Alphonse bit back a sob. Now that it was actually possible, he didn’t want to give up. He had to think of something. “What of my promise? I promised I would never leave you. I can't fulfill the promise if you're not here!”

“It was your promise. Not mine.” The voice was cold and flat. Alphonse could feel the spirit he hoped was his brother turning away from him. He was dismayed at the dismissal.

“Please, Brother! I miss you! I will give you anything. The Gate's toll is paid. I will give you what you ask for!” Alphonse pleaded.

That was it. He didn’t have anything else. He could think of nothing that would convince Edward to return. He had no idea what could convince Edward - this _spirit_ to return. What would be the one thing that Edward would ask of his little brother?

_That life brought me pain…_

Pain. Alphonse could understand. Not once did her ever see Edward truly happy. He saw every wound and scar laid on Edward’s overexerted body. He watched his brother slowly die from years of physical and mental torture. He thought of the enemies who tried to kill them - kill him and Edward always stopped them from hurting his Alphonse. But then, Edward took the most of the pain and Alphonse could only watch in guilt and helplessness. All Edward did was suffer at the hands of others.

The hands of others...their enemies.

“I can avenge you!!” Alphonse promised.

There was a heavy silence. Alphonse could feel the spirit contemplating his offer. He didn’t want to, but that was the reality. A life for his brother’s life. An equivalent exchange.

“You will avenge me. Bring the one I choose. He will die by my hand” the cold voice said to Alphonse’s relief and anxiety. “Only then will I return.”

“Yes, Brother …” Alphonse said without hesitation. He knew what Brother wanted.

Alphonse exited the Gate. the Truth was waiting for him with a malicious grin. He heard everything.

“So I guess you’ll be on your way?” He sounded too eager to see this unfold.

“I will…”

The truth waved his hand. Another gate appeared. Without hesitation, Alphonse stepped through the portal with the vengeful spirit behind him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * GOLEM * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thank you to everyone who read this fic! I had so much fun writing it. I loved using it to pretend I was working. :P

As stated in my other fics, I prefer to use already existing languages as it’s easier and grounds the story in reality. Latin made sense as Xerxes resembles Ancient Rome. Alchemy was introduced to Latin Europe in the 15th century and has its roots in Hellenistic Egypt. So it made sense historically.

Obligatory author's note:

Thoughts on Hohenheim:

One of the many reasons I like Edward so much as a character is because he’s so relatable. Particularly in his estranged relationship with his father. My parents split when I was 9 and they gave no reason why. My father just disappeared one day and my mother started saying terrible things about him. As a single parent, she struggled to support us and as the eldest, I became a pseudo parent to my siblings. I held a lot of resentment towards my father and we didn’t reconnect until well into adulthood. But that unresolved resentment still lingers.

Hohenheim annoyed me as he seemed far too caught up in his martyrdom to truly understand just how he hurt his family. I keep getting the impression that he thinks Edward’s lingering anger is immature and misguided. It’s almost as if he thinks Edward owes him forgiveness, and when Edward refuses, he thinks he’s the victim. And it was just as annoying when characters would push Edward to be kinder to his father, which is very ignorant and very similar things were said to me. I can tell you, it’s insulting when people tell you how to think/feel when they have no idea how such an emotionally traumatizing could affect you.

Why would you expect forgiveness without understanding what it is you did to offend the person? Saying “I’m sorry” doesn't mean anything if you don't know or don’t care about what you’re sorry for.


End file.
